


Counterplay

by NerdyAdjacent



Series: Dark Days [9]
Category: Professional Wrestling, WWE, World Wrestling Entertainment
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst, Coercion, Drug Use, Hand Jobs, Horror, Hurt/Comfort, Kidnapping, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Mentions of Rape, Mentions of alcoholism, Revenge, Sex, Sexual Slavery, Some Fluff, Stalking, THIS WILL NOT BE FOR EVERYONE, Torture, Triggers, Violence, ambreigns - Freeform, dark!fic, evil!Seth Rollins, im going to hell for sure, non/dub con, trigger warnings throughout
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-10
Updated: 2016-08-17
Packaged: 2018-07-14 01:47:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 22
Words: 26,512
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7147139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NerdyAdjacent/pseuds/NerdyAdjacent
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sequel to <a href="http://archiveofourown.org/works/7077532/chapters/16087012">REVENGE</a>.</p>
<p>Roman and Dean have finally gotten through the worst after what happened to them that fateful night with Seth Rollins. </p>
<p>But fate, it would seem, just doesn't want them to be happy.</p>
<p>**PLEASE READ THE TAGS**</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A year. 

It had been a year since that fateful night. But, to Roman Reigns, this had been the best year of his life. Oddly, he had Seth Rollins to thank for that. If he hadn't done what he did, he wouldn't have realized how much Dean meant to him or how much he wanted them to be more than friends. 

It started small because Dean was still so hung up on Seth and his sadistic hold on him that he didn't even realize things were beginning to grow between the two. Roman, for his part, was patient, making sure Dean knew he was going to keep his promise. He was there for him, holding him when he was so low he was shivering in the showers under icy water as everything hit him again. It was the guilt that ate at Dean, the guilt at letting Seth do what he did to Roman. He never really seemed to care about his own well being.

“I'm f-fucked up al-already, Ro.” He had said through chattering teeth. “But how c-could I let him d-do that to you…”

All he could do then was put his arm over Dean's shoulder and hold him until the shuddering - not all of it from the cold - stopped. 

Slowly Dean started coming around, happier and more like himself the longer he was out of Seth's grasp. That's when Roman realized he might be in love with the Lunatic Fringe and, in a twist of fate, he might just love him back. 

They became official six months ago, the night Dean successfully won the intercontinental title back. Roman had sprinted out to the ring and swept Dean up in a hug so tight he was sure the younger man was going to be sore. Dean hefted the title above his head proudly, the happiest Roman had seen him in months. “I did it!” He yelled over and over. 

When they made it into the back, he couldn't stop staring at it in his hands, dimples dotting his cheeks because he hadn't stopped smiling yet. “I did it.” He muttered to himself over and over like he couldn't believe it. It warmed Roman's heart to see Dean so happy. In a happy turn of events, Dean looked at Roman with such elation and grabbed the Samoan by his gear and pressed their lips together. Roman melted into it, running his hands through Dean's sweaty hair and sighing happily. 

“Thank you.” He had said, lips still centimeters apart, their breaths intermingling in the moment. Neither had opened their eyes yet, preferring to let the close feeling wash over them in a wave of contentment. 

Roman opened his eyes first, a bit confused at the statement. “For what?”

Dean looked at him then, the softness in his sparkling blues was enough to send another wave of happiness through him. “For letting me do that.”

Roman smirked then, “In that case, thank you.”

“For what?”

“Letting me do this.”

Roman took Dean by the back of the head and pressed their lips together again, pushing forward until Dean's back connected with the wall behind him. Roman took control then, moving from his mouth down to Dean's neck where his kisses became softer and more loving. Despite Dean's gasps for _more_ , Roman wanted him to know he was adored. He kissed every piece of exposed skin gently, from his shoulders down to his hands. 

“I love you, Roman.” Dean said suddenly and the Samoan looked up quickly. It wasn't something Dean said lightly, he knew that for a fact. For him to say such a thing was a gift. He smiled softly then, dimples again dotting his face. “You saved me. I don't know if you feel the same but -”

Roman cut him off by kissing his lips again, far softer and more loving than before. “I love you too.”

Their first official date was the following night and they had been together since. 

Funny how life works out sometimes. 

Now they were about to celebrate their six month anniversary and Roman had a nice weekend planned. Thankfully they had the next few days to themselves, WWE having granted their request far ahead of time. But he wanted to keep it a secret, a surprise for Dean. 

They left early that morning, Roman laughing at the bedhead rats nest that was Dean at 5am. He was still half asleep when he piled into Roman's truck. 

“Where are we going at the ass crack of dawn, Ro?” He yawned, shimmying down in the seat so he could rest his head on the door. 

He smirked at him, noting the way the early morning light seemed to catch Dean's skin in a way that almost made him glow. “I'm not telling you.”

“Ugh!” Was his reply and he pulled his beanie down to cover his eyes as Roman started the car and pulled off onto the street. Dean Ambrose was not a morning person. 

However, by hour four he was a figiting mess. “C’mon, just tell me!”

“No.” Roman chuckled. “I told you, it was a surprise.”

“I'll give you a blowjob if you tell me.”

“Tempting as that is, the answer is still no.”

He didn't see the smirk on the younger man's face but he did feel the nimble fingers begin to fumble with his fly. He almost pushed them away, but rather looked at Dean with a quizzical expression. “What are you doing? The answer is still no.”

Dean managed to get a hand on Roman's cock and began stroking him as best he could with his left hand and the confined space. “Well, maybe I'm just bored. And since you won't tell me where we're going, I'll have to occupy myself some other way.”

Roman gasped as Dean's hand squeezed just the right way and the car swerved a bit. “You're going to cause an accident doing that.”

The younger man leaned in closer, pressing his chest into Roman's side and whispering into his ear with that raspy voice that sent all the blood from the rest of his body to his groin. “You should probably pull over.”

And he did just that, finding a secluded spot with just enough tree coverage that anyone passing by wouldn't think anything of it. “Get in the back seat, lover boy.” 

Dean grinned triumphantly and did just that. Roman followed suit, climbing on top of him and immediately pressing their lips together. He managed to get at Dean's belt and tugged it free, tossing it somewhere in the car. They'd find it later. Dean was already making quick work of getting the rest of Roman's pants undone and pulling them down his thighs, again wrapping a hand around the Samoans already hard member. 

“Fuck!” He bit out and Dean stopped to look at him.

“What?”

“Lubes in the trunk.”

There was that smirk that sent shivers down Roman's spine. Dean reached into the pocket behind the driver's seat and pulled a small tube free. “Good thing we left this here from last time then.”

Roman laughed, loudly, and grabbed Dean by the back of the head to pull him into another bruising kiss. The younger man's pants here down far enough now that Roman could get at him. Taking the bottle, he poured some of the clear liquid onto his fingers and pushed a digit against his lovers tight entrance, enjoying the view of Dean's eyes closing and him biting his lip. “You like that, baby?”

“Fuck _yes_!” 

He pressed his finger all the way in and smirked at the gratifying whine that Dean tried to hold in. He loved when he could pull those desperate little sounds out of him. 

“God, Roman…” He breathed, more like panted. Oh, and that groan that seemed to come from deep in his body when Roman crooked his finger was enough for the Samoan to almost lose it right there. 

He added a second finger and by this time Dean was squirming so much for more contact it was getting harder to find a good position in the crowded back seat. “Quit squirming!”

“Ow, cramp!”

“Well, I told you to quit moving so much!” Roman laughed. 

“Well, if you'd quit playing around and fuck me, we wouldn't have this problem, now would we?”

With a small growl, he leaned forward over Dean's knees the best he could and kissed him. “Can you turn over?”

A wink, “Anything for you, babe.”

He didn't quite know how he did it, but Dean managed to wiggle his way onto his stomach, pushed as far against the door as he could be without actually being absorbed into it. In the small space, Roman kissed at Dean's neck and lined himself up, having already coated himself in lube. “You ready?”

“If you don't get in me soon, I'm going to go find another Samoan badass to do this for me!”

“Good luck with that.” Roman chuckled and pressed the head of his dick forward, groaning as Dean's body accepted him with such little resistance. 

“Jesus fuck!” Dean gasped out and his head fell against the window. 

Once he was all the way in, he stopped for a few moments to not only allow Dean to get used to the intrusion, but to also calm himself down before he came to soon. Dean was so snug, so warm, he could barely breathe. 

Deans pressing back into him and a muttered “fucking move!” snapped him out of it and he began pulling out slowly and rocking his hips back in. He knew Dean hated that, preferring a more rough approach to sex, but Roman loved torturing him with slow, even thrusts. He knew the younger man would complain about it, but admit he liked it later. “Fuck, Dean, you're so good!”

Dean didn't reply, instead clenching his hands on the door and biting his lip as he moaned and gasped with every snap of Roman's hips. It wasn't long before he could feel that familiar warmth begin to pool in his abdomen, he was so close...so close. 

“Fuck! _harder_!” Dean grunted between clenched teeth. “Jesus, almost there…”

Roman sped up, roughly snapping his hips against Dean's ass. The sound of skin on skin the only noise other than the moans and panted breaths. 

Dean came first, grabbing a hold of the door handle and pulling it off. Roman should be mad about that, being as he only had this car for a few months, but Dean's inner muscles pulsing around him was too good. A few more frantic thrusts and he came hard enough to see stars flash in front of his eyes. He collapsed on top of his lover and both lay there for a long few moments as Roman's dick remained softening inside Dean. 

“I love you.” He breathed into the back of his neck and kissed just behind Dean's ear. “You owe me a door handle.”

Dean smiled, still breathless, and passed the broken piece of plastic back, “Here. One door handle.”

That's when they heard the tap on the glass. They both looked up and immediately began scrambling to pull their clothes back on, Roman pulling out of Dean as slowly as he could with a state patrol officer glaring through the window at them. He thanked his lucky stars for tinted windows. 

“You boys having fun?” He said through the thin piece of glass, obviously not amused in the slightest. “Please step out of the vehicle.”

“Fuck!” Dean spat and pulled his jeans up as best he could. Roman knew he was probably going through his mind trying to figure out if there were any warrants out for him in this state. Old habits die hard, apparently.

They both did as instructed, standing at the side of the truck with a statie staring at them over his mirrored sunglasses. 

“We're sorry officer.” Roman said preemptively, hoping to appease the officer right off the bat. Dean just laughed at his side.

“Do you two think this is funny?” 

Dean snorted a stifled laugh. “Depends on how you look at it, really.”

Roman elbowed him in the ribs, but the damage had been done. The officer crossed his arms over his chest and immediately demanded their IDs. Once handed over, he went back to his cruiser and ran their information. In the meantime, Roman glared at Dean who was smiling ear to ear, obviously finding this situation hilarious. “Would you stop it.”

“C’mon, Ro!” He laughed. “We're about to get a ticket for fucking. You gotta think that's a little bit funny.”

A ghost of a smile lifted one corner of Roman's mouth but he composed himself quickly. “This is all your fault. You and your sexy ass.”

“I will gladly own up to this one!” Dean chuckled. “Hell, I'll even pay the ticket!”

The officer returned and handed them back their identification and a slip of paper. “You two be on your way.” 

Roman pocketed the ticket and nodded at the cop. “Thank you, sir.”

“And no more of this… _fraternizing_.”

Dean chuckled and Roman whacked him. “We won't.”

“Good.” Said the officer. “Now get.”

They both climbed into the truck, Dean laughing the entire time, and pulled back onto the main road.

The officer stayed and watched them leave before pulling out his cellphone and dialing a practiced number. The man answered on the third ring. “Hello?”

“They're headed toward the State Camp Ground. They should be there within the hour.”

“Good. Thank you.”

There was a click and the call was disconnected.


	2. Chapter 2

“A cabin?” Dean was smiling so wide Roman knew his face must be sore. “You took me to a cabin!?”

Roman pulled himself from the driver's seat, hand planted on his hips in smug satisfaction of being able to surprise Dean despite his attempts at pulling it out of him. He knew the younger man would like this. An avid outdoors adventurer, Dean would definitely love this place. Roman had done his research, made sure he found an area far enough away from civilization that they could be alone with enough to do that the blond would never be bored. 

“Not just any cabin!” He said, proud of himself. “This area has the best hiking and climbing trails on this side of the country. Plus, there's two kayaks and a private dock. Do you like it?”

Dean was out of the truck and jumping into Roman's arms quicker than the Samoan had expected and he lost his footing, sending him onto his back in the grass with his ecstatic boyfriend pinning him there with his long, gangly limbs. Dean leaned down and kissed him, hard. “Is that a yes?” He asked into Dean's mouth when he could. 

When Dean pulled back, a flash of concern hit Roman. The younger man's eyes were glassy and he was sniffing back tears as he sat back onto Romans thighs, allowing him to prop himself onto his elbows. “What's the matter?”

“No one has ever done something like this for me.” Dean sniffed, a stray tear fell down his cheek and Roman wiped it away with his thumb. 

“Ever?”

Dean shook his head and offered a small smile. “Shitty childhood, shitty adulthood. Until now.”

“Oh, Dean.” Roman breathed and sat up as much as Dean's position would allow him and pulled the younger man into a hug he hoped was both supportive and reassuring. Dean melted into the hug and continued sniffing against Romans shoulder for a few more seconds before pushing him back. 

“I'm ok.” He said with a new, bright smile. “Better than ok! I'm here with you!”

“Good!” Said Roman with a smile. “Not get off me and let's unpack the car. We can figure out what to do after that.”

Dean wiggled his eyebrows. “I can think of something to do.”

Roman kissed him quickly, “Later.”

The pair did just that, unpacking the car with all their luggage, some coolers of food, and several cases of beer. The cabin itself was beautiful inside and out, even if it was small. It had one bedroom decorated in flannels and furs on the king sized bed while the deep wooden accents on the walls and furniture gave it a homey, warm feel. There was a fairly large full kitchen with modern, stainless steel appliances. The living room, similar to the bedroom, had warm wooden furniture and a large stone fireplace with a bearskin rug lying in front of it. Dean mentioned offhand that someone was getting fucked on that. Roman knew he was far from kidding. 

Once everything was away, both men plopped on the surprisingly comfortable couch to take a breather. 

“What should we do first?” Dean asked, hooking his leg across Romans lap. 

“What do you want to do?”

There was a devious twinkle in Dean's eye. “You. On the bear.”

“We have an entire week here,” Roman laughed. “There's plenty of time for that.”

“Ok, well, how about we go check out those kayaks?”

They did, spending the entire afternoon lazily kayaking down the river until the light began to just start to fade into early evening. A quick shower together, which turned into a quickie in the shower, and Roman decided that he would try out that impressive looking barbecue on the back deck. He made steaks while Dean tried his hand at potatoes and green beans. All-in-all, it had been an amazing day. 

Domestic. But amazing.

Roman loved this time with Dean when they could both just be themselves away from the ring, away from the spotlight, away from the fans. It was just the two of them in love and no one could take these moments away. 

That night, after everything was cleaned and put away, they cuddled in front of a fire on the rug. Dean was obviously determined to christen it before the night was over if the way he kissed and nipped at Roman's neck was any indication. Not that Roman was fighting it, having already laid Dean back against the fur where he could let his hands roam wherever he wanted. 

“I love you.” Dean said, taking another small bite at Roman's shoulder. 

“I love you too.” Roman replied, breathless. 

Within minutes, Roman found himself gently pressing in and out of Dean as they gazed into each other's eyes in front of a dying fire. Neither said a word because nothing needed to be said. They were as close as two human beings could physically be, happy and contented to share a bond stronger than anything either had ever experienced. When they came, it was together in a show of love both would never forget. 

After, they cuddled there for a long time, just being with each other. 

“I'm sticky.” Dean said suddenly, breaking that beautiful moment like only he could. “I need a shower.”

“Well, go ahead lover boy.” Roman chuckled and climbed off of him so the younger man could get up. 

Dean gave him another quick kiss and disappeared, stark naked, to the bathroom. Roman closed his eyes, laid back, and tucked his arms behind his head, sighing contentedly. He felt someone approach and smiled. “That was a quick shower.”

His eyes shot open when he felt a wet cloth doused in something bitter smelling cover his nose and mouth. He was vaguely aware of that stupid blonde streak before everything went black. 

Seth Rollins grinned as he dropped the now unconscious Samoan to the floor. What he had planned was going to ruin the pair of them forever. But first he would have to take back something that was his. 

No, not a title. 

Dean. 

Roman had stolen him and now Seth was going to make sure the Lunatic Fringe understood that you don't just _leave_ someone like Seth Rollins. He needed to be put back in his place. 

“Hey, Ro? Can I borrow your -”

Dean froze in his place, eyes wide as dinner plates when he saw the scene in front of him. 

“Hey Deano.” Seth said with a wicked grin. “Miss me?”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Im inviting everyone to my condo in hell for the messed up things I write. But, damn, it's fun.

Romans mouth was overly dry, like he had been gargling with sand. There was a funny taste at the back of his throat, one he couldn't place. And his head. When he managed to crack his eyes open It hurt like he'd been hit with a baseball bat by whoever…

SETH! 

His eyes shot open. 

“Hiya Roman.” Seth said, sitting on the edge of the table in front of him, that ever present smirk playing at the corner of his mouth. 

He felt himself growl and try to lunge at him. Nothing. He was sitting in one of the kitchen chairs, still naked, arms were cuffed behind his back and his ankles were bound to each leg of the chair. It felt oddly reminiscent of what had happened a year ago.

That's when he spotted Dean behind Seth and his stomach dropped and his heart seemed to stop mid beat at the sight of him. He was bent over the table, arms tethered out in front of him and secured to the table facing Roman, so they could see each other. The position looked awkward and he knew his ankles were probably secured to the bottom of the table legs to keep him still and open with his entire back and ass exposed. Most of the skin he could see was covered in red, angry, bleeding stripes -fingernail marks? He didn't look conscious. His face was bruised and bloody, staining the rag that had been shoved between his teeth. 

“Dean?” He breathed. He didn't even twitch.

He was vaguely aware of Seth laughing, that cackle of his echoing off the walls, but he couldn't care less. The anger was building in his chest, hot and intense. If he got out of this, he was going to make sure Seth paid in blood. His voice was low, rage filled and dangerous, when he spoke, eyes never leaving Dean's still form. “You better kill me now, because when I get out of this I'm going to tear your flesh off and make you _eat_ it.”

“I think that's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me.” Seth chuckled. “You talk to Dean like that? I mean, I know he's a kinky son of a bitch, so it wouldn't surprise me.”

“YOU don't get to say his name!”

“Why not?” Seth asked with a shrug, sliding off the table and taking a fistful of Dean's hair. He lifted his head and Roman could now see the extent of his bruising, tears already threatening. But Seth just kept on pressing buttons. “You know, while you've been in dreamland, Deano and I have been catching up. His ass is just as tight as I remember. _You_ must not be fucking him hard enough.”

Roman tugged on the cuffs hard, already feeling a warm wetness sliding down his palm. 

Seth just kept talking, digging his grave deeper as far as Roman was concerned. “There was quite a bit of resistance. He reached for you, said your name a lot, until I had to gag him.” He dropped Dean's head and it hit the table with a thud. “But in the end, he just sort of gave up.”

“Is...is he dead?” Roman asked through barely controlled fear, holding his breath as Seth let him stew. “Seth! Is he dead!?”

“No. Just passed out.” Seth answered finally and he released that breath in a huff of relief that no one should ever feel. “He's no fun when he doesn't fight back a little.”

“What do you want?” Roman sniffed through his teeth remained clenched as tight as his fists.

Seth moved back to his previous position and sat back on the edge of the table, folding his arms in his lap and observing Roman like a child about to be scolded. If Roman could, he'd punch him right in his smug mouth. “I want to take back what's mine because _you_ have taken everything from me.”

“No I hav-”

The slap was quick and he had little time to brace for it. 

“Don't lie, Roman.” Seth continued, voice surprisingly conversational. It was unnerving considering what the younger man was obviously capable of. “You took my title. Remember breaking my ankle? Yeah, that took my career. Oh, and the icing on the cake, you took Dean. He's the only thing I can take from you now, so I'm going to.”

“Look, if this is just to get back at me, then hurt me!” Roman pleaded. “You destroyed him the first time. Just, leave him alone. Take me.”

Seth snorted a laugh. “That'd be too easy. I have to take your heart first.”

Roman swallowed hard. “I'm begging you…”

“Yeah, keep begging.” Seth chuckled. “I like when you beg. It won't change a damn thing, but keep going.”

His voice changed to a low growl, “I fucking hate you.”

Seth leaned in close, smiling. “Good.”

Then he hopped off the table and moved back around to Dean. Roman tensed and struggled. “Don't touch him!”

“I'm just going to wake him up.” Seth laughed. “He's missing the party.”

He pulled a small packet from his pocket and snapped it - smelling salts. Waving the pungent chemical under his nose, Dean started awake and immediately began flinching away from Rollins. “Welcome back, Deano.”

Roman called his name gently and his glassy blue eyes found him. They were relieved for the briefest of moments until Seth began talking again. “So, first things first, I should really write my name on what belongs to me. Permanently.”

Romans eyes widened at the sudden fear in Dean's eyes. “Wait, what?

Seth disappeared into the kitchen and returned with a knife, the blade of which was a glowing orange. Dean began struggling, tugging and pulling at his bonds the closer Seth got. Roman was screaming now, begging Seth to stop, to not hurt him. Seth just smirked at their panic and placed a hand between Dean's shoulder blades. 

Dean was panicking. Roman tried to get his attention through his horror. “Dean, look at me! Keep your eyes on me!”

Seth was laughing. “That's adorable.”

He touched the red hot knife to the skin of Dean's left shoulder and there was the briefest of seconds there was only the sickening sound of sizzling skin. Then Dean screamed, teeth clenched around the rag and eyes squeezed shut. 

“Jesus Christ, stop!” Roman yelled.

“Seth will do.” Chuckled Seth. He lifted the knife and Dean took a shaky breath. It was only a brief second of relief before he repeated the process over and over. Seth was laughing with each new scream he pulled out of Dean. When he was done, Seth grinned triumphantly. Roman could barely see the word burned into his skin. 

S-E-T-H


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Dude, I feel so bad for what I'm doing to Dean...
> 
> Sort of.

“Perfect!” Seth squealed, clapping his hands at his branding. He slithered up to Dean's ear as he continued to try to get a grip on the pain. “It looks good on you, Deano.”

“Fuck, Seth! Stop!” Roman was yelling, but Seth wasn't really listening to him. He was busy with Dean, running his fingers through his hair in an almost tender gesture. 

Oh how he missed this. Dean was so easy, so vulnerable, so incredibly easy to hurt. But this wasn't about hurting Dean, he was just a bonus. Roman was the one who needed to suffer. Seth was going to take everything from Roman just like he took everything from him. And that everything, was Dean. 

Now he turned his attention to Roman, smirking at the pure rage on his face. “Consider us even, Reigns. I'm taking him with me and you will never see us again.”

“No!” Roman screamed. “You better kill me because I _will_ find you!”

Seth thought for a moment, gently stroking his beard. “Good point.”

The gun had been tucked into his jacket and he had been itching to use it. Now was as good a time as any. A quick shot, a muffled scream, and a dead Samoan. The shock of the shot sent Reigns back in the chair and to the floor.   
Dean was screaming behind the gag, tugging and pulling on his restraints, not even trying to hide the tears and anguish. Yeah, he'd hit him right where it hurt. Dean could always take physical pain. Emotional? Not so much.

“Dean. Hey. Calm down.” Seth said almost soothingly, moving to in front of him so he could take his head in his hands and make him look at him. Of course he tried to struggle away, but a firm grip and he was able to keep his head relatively still. Angry, wet blue eyes were boring holes into his and he smirked again. “It's just you and me again, Lunatic. I thought you'd be happy about that.”

Dean tried to pull away again, but Seth held firm. “That's ok.” He said. “I know what’ll help.”

In his other pocket, he pulled a syringe and waved in front of Dean. His captives eyes widened and he strained in his bonds. He could pull and struggle all he wanted, but Seth was easily able to take a hold of his forearm. He jumped at the prick into his vein, but Dean was powerless to do anything but take it. 

Seth knew the drug wouldn't take long. A few seconds later Dean began to calm and Seth pulled the gag from between his teeth. Dean wasn't fighting him now, his eyes were beginning to close. “Do you want to come with me Dean?”

“R-Ro-” he was groggy, out of it and still crying, just where Seth wanted him. “Rom-an…dead.”

“Answer me, Dean” Seth pushed and repeated the question.

Slowly, he nodded and Seth smiled. He released his hands followed by his feet. A little nudge and he fell to the floor with a thud. 

Seth stood with his hands on his hips and a smug smile on his face. He looked from the unconscious Dean to the bloody and dead Roman very happy with the outcome of this little plot of his. He stalked over to him and crouched over the body of his former friend and brother. 

“No hard feelings, Ro.” He said with a chuckle. “Well, maybe a few. But hey, looks like I won.”

Pulling Dean onto his shoulders, he was able to walk right out of the cabin, victorious, with the spoils of war. 

\---

The pain in his shoulder was intense when he came too. Then he remembered the gunshot, the impact that seemed to rip the air right out of his lungs, then falling backwards, and nothing. He was looking at the cabins ceiling when he opened his eyes. 

“...Dean.” He said into the quiet room, hoping this has all been some sort of dream and he was still lying on the bearskin rug waiting for Dean to get out of the shower. The sharp pain in his shoulder and wrists. 

Taking stock of his situation, he realized he was still in the chair, still naked, all his weight pressing onto his hands, and his feet still bound to the legs. 

That's when panic set in. “Dean! Fuck! Answer me! Seth!”

Nothing but the quiet and the sound of his own frightened breathing. What did he do now? Lifting his head he was able to see the bullet wound and his panic increased. Seth shot him.

SETH FUCKING SHOT HIM

“Fucking...shit…”

He needed to move, get to a phone, call the police, something. On his back, he was able to slip his feet out of his ankle bonds, leaving him able to shimmy himself back and away from the chair. God his wrist and shoulder hurt but he was so relieved the Architect wasn't was good a shot as he thought he was. 

Gingerly, he somehow managed to slip his arms over his ass and slip his feet through, bringing his arms to the front. 

Now he could see the whole room. There were the empty bonds that used to hold Dean, no other signs of struggle but no Dean either. 

Seth took him.

“Oh god…”

He scrambled to his feet as best he could, the pain in his shoulder an afterthought at this point. His phone was in his Jean pocket that had been discarded earlier when...when…

Fuck, he couldn't think about that now. He dug his phone out and quickly dialed 911. 

“911. What is your emergency?”

He didn't even realize he was crying until he heard the sound of his own voice. He didn't even care.

“My...my boyfriends been...kidnapped. I've been...I've been shot!”


	5. Chapter 5

The blankets were scratchy, that was what he focused on. It was a small grounding to know that at least he could feel that even if he couldn't feel anything else. He felt empty, hollow, naked. The hospital was white. Not that that should matter, but it somehow made him feel more carved out than he did already. 

After he'd called the police, the rest was a blur of movement, people, emergency surgery, and scratchy hospital blankets. They said had Seth shot a few centimeters left, or been at a different angle, he would have hit Roman's lung or spine and there would be nothing they could do. As it were, he'd be fine after some recuperation. 

But how could he do that with Dean out there somewhere thinking he was dead? How could he sit back and let Seth just do whatever he wanted to him over and over? He couldn't. He just couldn't. 

The police were trying, having asked him the same questions over and over to the point he was just so mentally and physically exhausted he just shut down. He told them everything, every sick detail, and yet they just didn't seem to get it. 

“Mr. Reigns, we understand you're upset,” Said the young detective, a tall blonde man who looked the part with his crisp white shirt rolled at the sleeves to be more ‘relatable’, his concerned yet stern tone, and his unwavering ability to remove himself from the situation like only a cop could. Roman didn't even care to learn his name. “But we need you to go over it again.”

“No, I don't think you _do_ understand, detective!” He snapped, harsher than he'd meant to but he didn't feel bad about it. “The person I love is being held by a man that had already…” He found the word hard to say every time he had to say it. “...raped him into unconsciousness. Seth doesn't care about Dean, he only cares about what he can do to him.”

The detective was stone faced, something that Roman hated. Every cop he had talked to had the same practiced expression. He wanted someone to show a little emotion, someone to care, someone to not look at him like that! 

“Look, we have our team combing the cabin and the surrounding area for any sign of them.” 

Roman raised and expectant eyebrow, “And?”

His silence was enough. They had found nothing. Seth Rollins had disappeared like the snake he was. And what he hated more than anything was the dismissive answer he was given when the detective actually spoke, like he was just supposed to accept it. “We're doing everything we can, but we need you to cooperate.”

“Cooperate!?” Roman barked and almost laughed when the cop visibly startled. “You want _me_ to cooperate? I've done nothing _but_ cooperate! It's you all that are dragging your feet!”

“Mr. Reigns, please calm down.”

“No! I'll calm down when you've found Dean, when I can hug him and tell him it will be ok!” His voice was cracking now and he felt the tears before he even registered he was crying. “I'll calm down when Seth is being bent over in a jail cell somewhere!”

“Roman…”

“Don't try to appease me, detective!” He yelled. “Do your fucking job and find him or I will!”

\---

Dean was heavier than he remembered, especially unconscious when he was nothing but dead weight. Once he was in the trunk, it really didn't matter anyway. He observed him for a few seconds. Despite the blood and bruising currently marring his face, Dean had always been a good looking man. Maybe Seth did have some weird attraction to him other than just using him for his needs. 

Curious, he leaned down and pressed his lips to Dean's. There was no resistance, not that he expected any, but he did find himself a little disappointed...surprisingly. 

It didn't matter anyway. Dean was his now to do with what he wanted and the man would just have to come to grips with that. Seth’d taken away everything he cared about so he didn't expect much resistance from the man unconscious in his trunk. Just to be on the safe side, he rummaged in the only bag he brought with him and found his duct tape. Without Dean fighting him he was easily able to wrap it around his wrists and ankles, finishing off with a strip over his mouth. 

He was beautiful all trussed up. 

He was even more beautiful knowing he now belonged to Seth. He was going to enjoy destroying any shred of humanity he had left. That's what he gets for leaving; that's what he gets for shacking up with Roman Reigns; that's what he gets for thinking he could live without Seth. 

A small smirk lifted the corners of his mouth at the thought of breaking Dean Ambrose. He'd done it before, he could do it again. 

He drove through the night to his destination. When he got there and opened the trunk and Dean was still out. He knew the drug would wear off soon, so he had to move fast. Shouldering him, Seth carried Dean through the building to the bathroom. He deposited him the the tub, tore the tape off his mouth, and turned the water on as cold as he could make it. 

It took a few seconds, but Dean startled awake and began thrashing and gasping at the sudden shock of cold. Seth let him. He'd settle down in a minute. 

Like he expected, he stopped moving when his eyes met Seths. “Wh-what…”

“Shut up.” Seth snapped and Dean clamped his mouth closed. At least he remembered that much. “You stink like him. I don't want you smelling like Reigns, you're mine now.”

Then he laughed, surprising Seth. It started as a small chuckled and soon evolved into hysterical laughing that was loud and boisterous. 

“Something funny, Ambrose?”

He was still chuckling when he answered. “You're an idiot.”

Seth raised an unamused eyebrow. “Oh am I?”

“Yeah.” He said and left it at that. 

“And what makes you think I won't just slit your throat right now?” Seth responded. “Would I still be an idiot?”

“Go ahead!” Dean snapped. “You took away the only thing I had worth living for, so, yeah, just slit my throat and be done with it!”

The hand was at Ambrose's throat in a flash, squeezing his air supply closed as Dean clawed with his taped hands at his wrist. Seth moved his face in close, unconcerned that he was now in the path of the shower. He had a point to make. “You aren't getting off that easy.” He said dangerously, making sure Dean was looking him in the eye. “I'm going to use you over and over until there's nothing left. Then, if I'm feeling generous, I might do what you want and put you out of your misery. There's no one coming to help you and no one to hear you scream when I hurt you. _You_ are nothing but my toy now.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **trigger warning: rape**

“I miss the days when you would just come to me for the abuse you needed.” Said Seth as he tied off Deans arm and stood back to observe his work - one bed and Ambrose's long limbs spread to each corner. Beautiful. His. At least he'd given him the luxury of a mattress, that should count for something. 

Dean just looked away. He hadn't said anything since the tub, nor did he fight Seth too much while being lifted. He'd just given up. He was no fun like this. The least he could do was resist. He was making this too easy, even for Seth. 

He whacked him on the back of the head. “Did you hear me, Ambrose?” 

No answer. 

Seth growled, he wanted a response and he wanted it now. He grabbed him by the hair and lifted his face to look at him. Dean just watched, eyebrows drawn down and teeth clenched in obvious discomfort at the positioning, but he made no sound. “Why are you being so fucking quiet?”

No answer. The loud crack of the slap to his face was the only sound he heard - Ambrose didn't even yelp or cry out. Another slap. Same result. Seth set his jaw, determined now to make him make a noise. 

Using his free hand, he dug his fingers into the tender flesh of the burn on Dean's shoulder. His face contorted in obvious pain and his body instinctively tried to pull away, but nothing left his lips. “Goddammit, Ambrose!” He yelled and let go of his hair. 

Then he thought for a second. He could pull noises out of Dean, and he knew just how to do it. He smirked as Dean watched him undress, the hate in his eyes the sweetest aphrodisiac. 

The bed creaked under his weight when he straddled Dean's back. Two fingers were held out to Dean's mouth. “You know the drill.”

Dean turned his head away.

“I think you want me to hurt you.” Seth said. “Is that it?”

Silence.

Now he was angry. And an angry Seth was not good for Dean. He quickly wet his fingers and roughly shoved them into Ambrose with little pretense or warning. The only sign of a reaction was the way he was clenching his fists and the jump of his jaw muscle as he clenched it. A smirk formed on Seth's face. Oh the power he had now over the man under him was enough to send a jolt to his groin and he moaned without even trying to hold it in. He wanted Dean to hear him. He wanted Dean to listen to every grunt and gasp and groan of the pleasure he was getting from this. 

Removing his fingers, knowing full well he hadn't opened Dean wide enough to make it somewhat bearable, he spit into his hand, coated his hard cock, and pressed it into him. He did it slowly, making sure Dean felt every fucking inch of him. Yet still, not a peep from Ambrose. He knew he had to be in excruciating pain, he'd made sure of it. Nothing. Fucking Ambrose really could take pain like a champ. 

However...

“How's it feel Dean?” He asked, beginning to thrust. “How's it feel knowing you're being fucked by the man who killed the only person who ever loved you?”

There was a brief moment when Dean opened and closed his mouth like he might say something, but clamped it shut. Fuck. He sped up, fucking into him in earnest now, snapping forward hard and rough. 

“I guess it really doesn't matter how you feel, does it?” He panted, leaning down so he could whisper in Dean's ear as he continued to press into him. “You're nothing to me and I'm sure you were nothing to Roman. And _‘nothing’_ has no feelings. In fact, maybe that's what I should call you from now on. Nothing.”

And yet, he was still quiet. He remained so when Seth again dug his nails into the burn, when he pounded into him as hard as he could, when he bit him and scratched him and punched him. He almost took all the fun out of this. 

He wanted to be that way, fine! When Seth came, he was at his ear again, making sure he heard the drawn out moan as he released inside him, the smirk back on his face. “You think that's all I can do?” He panted. “You ain't seen the half of it… _Nothing_.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I should point out that I don't condone anything I write. I wouldn't wish any of it on my worst enemy.


	7. Chapter 7

It'd been a month since that night at the cabin and there was still no sign of Seth - No clues, no sightings, no anything. 

No Dean. 

That's the part that was killing him. That's the part that hurt more than anything. The fact that he couldn't hold him and tell him everything was going to be alright ate at him. Dean was lost somewhere, alone and scared, with no one but the sadistic Seth Rollins to torture and hurt him. The thought of what he might be doing to him was sickening. It made Roman's stomach turn and that rage just bubble in his chest. 

God, he wanted to get his hands on Rollins. He wanted to beat him to a bloody pulp. He wanted to rip that smug smile off his face with his bare hands. He wanted him to _suffer_! 

He could do none of that from this hospital bed. Other superstars had come by and gave their condolences, their well wishes, their prayers...like Dean was already dead. There was nothing pointing in that direction and he refused to believe it. There was a nationwide manhunt out for Seth Rollins and every law enforcement officer was put on alert with photos of both men. The cops said the longer Dean was missing, the less likely he was alive. He didn't believe that. 

Dean wasn't dead, he could feel it. 

Today was the day he was scheduled to be released from the hospital. He had attempted several times to sign himself out, to join the hunt for the love of his life, but every time he was talked out of it. 

“You'd be no use to him hurt like this.” One of the nurses had said. “He’ll need you healed.”

The look in their eyes was always sad. He knew they didn't believe he was alive, they were just appeasing him. Oddly, they were right. _When_ they found him, he'd need to be taken care of. Roman couldn't do that with a bullet wound and a bum shoulder. So he stayed. He stayed and he waited. 

He grasped at any news from the cops he could get, even if it was very little.

“Still no sign of them, Roman.” They always said. “We’ll keep you updated.”

Yet, when they started asking about his next of kin, Roman broke down. Dean had no one. No one but Roman, and Roman wasn't there. Roman promised he'd never leave him, yet here he sat in relative comfort while Dean…

He didn't even want to think about it. 

Until he saw a body, Dean Ambrose was alive as far as he was concerned. 

“Hey, Uce, how you feeling?” 

Jimmy, his cousin, and his twin brother Jey, had come to take him out of the hospital. They had been rocks for Roman since that night, barely leaving his side and letting him vent and scream and curse and cry. He really didn't know if he'd ever be able to repay them for that. 

He offered a weak smile and a shrug, wincing at the pulling still in his shoulder. “I'm alright. Ready to be out of here.”

Jey placed a bag on the bed and started pulling out clothes they had picked up from Roman's home and helped him dress as much as he would allow. He handed Roman the shirt and he stopped.

“What's wrong, Uce?” Jimmy asked, genuinely concerned.

“This isn't mine.” Roman answered, already feeling the sting of oncoming tears. “It's Deans.”

“I'm sorry. I think I have a spare in my trunk…”

Roman stared at the crumpled up piece of black fabric in his hand. He could just make out the stupid slogan written on the front - probably some goodwill dollar bin find Dean had had for ages. Bringing it to his nose, he breathed in. It still smelled like him. 

“Roman, are you okay?” Jey asked this time and all he did was nod even though he could feel that he was most definitely _not_ okay. He wouldn't be ok until he could make fun of Dean for wearing such a silly shirt, not until he could yell at him for leaving his clothes around the house, certainly not until he could hold him in his arms and kiss him stupid. That's when he would be okay again. 

A knock on the door drew their attention and Roman's stomach dropped. It was the same blonde detective from the past month, Reggie he'd learned once he was more calm. He didn't look happy. “Roman, do you have a minute?”

He was nodding on auto pilot. The detective looked from Jimmy to Jey, silently asking for privacy, but Roman grabbed both their arms when they made a move to leave. “They're staying.”

The detective nodded and closed the door behind him before pulling a chair up to sit in front of Roman. He was solemn, grim, and Roman knew this was not going to be good news. He almost didn't want to hear it because if it wasn't said, then it wasn't true. 

“We found a body.” 

Roman squeezed Jimmy’s arm hard. No. No. No. No. No. _No._ This wasn't happening. He was dreaming. That's the only explanation. 

“It matches Dean’s description.” The detective continued, looking at his hands and not Roman. That bothered him. “It looks like it's fairly recently been dumped and…”

“I want to see it!” Roman interrupted, cheeks wet but he wasn't sobbing, not yet. 

“Uce…” Jey warned. “Is that a good idea?”

“I don't care!” He was yelling now, turning his anger on the detective. “Have they identified it yet?”

“No, but…”

“Then it might not be him!”

“Roman, I…”

“If you say you don't think it's a good idea, I'm going to punch you in the mouth.”

The detective nodded, knowing it was a losing battle to fight Roman on this. “Okay, we need someone to ID him anyway. I'll take you there.”

He piled into the detective's car, the twins in the back seat for support. The ride was long and covered four counties and crossed one state line, but they made it in just under two hours. 

He had to sign into the the coroner and be given a visitors pass. In all honesty, most of it was a blur. He was in a daze, almost numb to it by the time they took him back into the morgue. He was allowed to bring one person with him and Jey stepped up to help his cousin. Without him, Roman didn't know if he'd be able to stand long enough to look at it. 

His stomach was in knots, twisting and turning with anticipation, nerves, and dread. He'd gotten it into his head that this wasn't Dean, but what if it was? What did he do next? How was he supposed to go on? 

The coroner was a small blonde woman in her mid fifties. She was pretty, and sweet, but Roman wasn't really listening when she spoke to him. He was too busy looking at the long body laid out under a blue sheet. 

Could that be Dean? It was so cold, so antiseptic, he hated to think that this is what he'd been reduced to. A tag with a number. A piece of meat under a sheet. 

He didn't realize he had begun wavering, Jey holding him up far more than he intended. He was trying to stay strong, he really was, but was failing. Miserably. 

The coroner led them to the metal gurney. All that was separating Roman from knowing at this point was a blue hospital sheet. He almost ripped it free himself, so desperate to _know_. 

She looked at him, waiting for confirmation that he was ready. When he nodded, she slowly pulled the sheet down to the shoulders and Roman drew in a shuddering breath before falling to the ground, weeping and sobbing into his hands. 

“Is it him?” The coroner asked.

It was Jey who answered. 

“That's not Dean Ambrose.”


	8. Chapter 8

_Authorities are still on the lookout for the WWE Superstar Dean Ambrose. He was abducted from a cabin a several months ago, but there have been little leads in the case. He is believed to have been taken by fellow Superstar, Seth Rollins. The perpetrator is considered armed and extremely dangerous. Any information that could lead to-_

Seth turned the small tv off and scowled. He had hoped that this would have blown over by now, but he wasn't that lucky. He should have really made sure Roman was dead before he left with Dean. Now the stupid Samoans face has been all over the news. A little nugget of information he kept from his captive. 

“I just want Dean back alive.” He had said to the news cameras every time they managed to catch him at home or leaving rehab. The only consolation in this whole thing is that doctors didn't know if he'd be able to wrestle again and the WWE made him vacate the title much like they did with Seth. But it didn't seem to bother him that much that they took what was rightfully his. He was more concerned with _Dean_!

“Fucking dickhead…” Seth mumbled to himself and pulled himself from the chair. He needed to blow off some steam. 

A few rooms down is where he kept the Lunatic Fringe. He always paused at the door and listened. Every so often he could hear sobbing coming from the room, pretty much the only sound he ever heard out of Dean. Even when Seth crushed his hand with a hammer or pulled out his toenails with pliers, he never made a peep. It was only in the quiet moments when he was alone did Ambrose make any noise. And that infuriated Seth. 

Hell, half the things he did to him should have probably killed the man, but he never said a word. Dean Ambrose was just too caught up in his grief and despair. But Seth was stubborn and determined. 

There was no noise this time when he pressed his ear to the door. Honestly, he wasn't sure he expected any, not after Seth choked him out a few hours ago. 

He unlocked the door and pulled it open to find Dean right where he left him, cuffed to a pipe from the ceiling with his toes barely scraping the ground. It was meant to be uncomfortable, putting lots of strain on his shoulders, wrists, and back. He'd been like that for three days, but still no sounds. And, just like he thought, he was unconscious. His hair had grown shaggier since Seth took him, and a few months worth of beard was pretty becoming on the older man. 

He walked to right in front of him and just watched the ragged rise and fall of his chest as he breathed. He could just leave him like this, it wouldn't be hard to just walk away. But perhaps he'd spent enough time tethered to the ceiling. Seth was bored with fucking him like that anyway. He pulled the small silver key from around his neck and unlocked his right wrist with the help of a small metal chair. 

Dean fell like a stone, but the shock of the fall startled him awake. Not that he was focused or even able to move much, but his eyes definitely fluttered open. Seth sighed, _almost_ ready to write it off as not even worth it. Almost.

He kicked Dean in the ribs and he reacted by curling in on himself - still not a peep though. “You know, Nothing, I'm getting bored with you.”

He crouched down and watched Dean watch him. There was still that hatred there, but it was nowhere near as intense as it had been when they first got here. 

“You take all the fun out of it.” He slapped Dean's face, but there wasn't any oomph behind it. It was just meant to get his attention. “What am I supposed to do with you, huh? You're just a broken toy at this point…”

Then it hit him. One more way to get back at Roman was to see what he had done to his precious little Ambrose. He could drop Dean by the side of the road, let some passerby pick him up, or if he died, he died. No skin off Seth's nose. That could get the authorities off his back long enough to disappear more completely. 

He saw no losers in this. Well, maybe Roman and Dean. He'd get away, Roman could see what he'd reduced Dean too, and Dean would probably end up in a mental ward for what he'd done to him. Win/win as far as Seth was concerned. 

“I think I'll get rid of you.” 

Dean didn't even react. In fact, if anything he looked relieved which drew a smirk from Seth. “Yeah, that's what I'll do. I'm gonna fuck you unconscious then drop you in a ditch somewhere to rot. You're useless to me now, just...broken. And broken things like you go in the trash.”

He moved around so he could maneuver Dean onto his stomach, meeting little to no resistance. He didn't even wet his fingers when he shoved them into Dean anymore, a habit he'd gotten out of because Dean was a stubborn asshole and wouldn't make a noise regardless. They slid in easily now anyway, his hole well used and abused. With little pretense, he unzipped his jeans and released his hardening cock, that look of hatred always such an aphrodisiac he couldn't help but feel the stretch of himself in his pants. He liked when Dean hated him, but that hate was fading to numbness and that was not what Seth wanted. At any rate, he slid into Dean and gripped his hips for support, groaning at the feeling still so warm around him despite the looseness. 

Before he started the rough fucking he was planning, he leaned down so he could whisper in His captives ear. “This one's for Roman…”

\---

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK_

The knock at the door was frantic and made Roman jump and wince at the pull in his shoulder. He'd been trying to keep up with his physical therapy at home, but he still had that tight pain anytime he moved too quickly. 

_KNOCK KNOCK KNOCK DING-DONG DING-DONG_

“Alright! Alright! I'm coming! Hold your horses!”

He threw open the door to find a very out of breath Detective, fist raised to knock again. Roman's stomach dropped. He couldn't handle it if they told him there was another body, there was no way. He couldn't go through that again. It took Jimmy and Jey days to get him to come out of his bedroom, and even longer to snap him out of that stupor the stress had caused. He didn't sleep, he barely ate, but he still had hope. 

He couldn't stand to have that hope dashed again. 

“Roman! Thank god!”

“What's the matter?”

“We found him!”

Roman stumbled back and fell back onto the carpet, worry and heartache and hope and so many other emotions filled him he felt like he might burst. “Is he...is he…”

God, he couldn't even say the word. However, the next words out of the detective's mouth would change everything.

“No, he's alive!”


	9. Chapter 9

He didn't even remember driving to the hospital. Hell, it was like one minute the detective was helping him to his feet, the next he was running through the hospital dodging nurses and doctors to get to Dean. He had to see him. He had to make sure this was all real with his own eyes, otherwise this was just a dream he might wake up from.

He was stopped by two police officers just before the wing he knew they had taken Dean and he almost barreled right through them, damn the consequences. “Please let me through!”

“I'm sorry, we can't do that.” The one on the left said, pushing back on Romans chest firmly. “You need to go to the waiting room, sir.”

Roman pushed his arm off, “I need to get through and I have no problem taking you two out to do that!”

The one on the right spoke this time. “Sir, you need to calm down.”

“Not until you let me through!” 

He was screaming, he knew that, but couldn't care less at the stares and whispers from the hospital staff and other patients. They didn't understand the hell he'd been through these last few months. How could they understand the not knowing, the false hopes, the fear? 

A doctor came running down the hallway towards them. He recognized her from when he was stuck here after being shot. “Mr. Reigns, please calm down.” 

“I need to see him, doc!”

“I know, I know.” She said calmly, gently nodding to the cops. “Follow me.”

They stepped aside and Roman slipped past after her, “Talk to me.”

“Roman, you know I can't tell you much.” She said. “Had he not been found when he was…”

“Where was he found?” He asked, though fearful of the answer.

She looked at him quickly, then looked away. “By the side of the road in some bushes. He's in surgery now. You should know, it's still touch and go. We won't be out of the woods for some time. He might not even wake up.”

Roman sniffed and wiped his arm under his nose, “So I...I still could lose him?”

She stopped and stepped in front of him, putting a reassuring hand on his arm. “Look, I'm going to be straight with you. We will do everything we can for him, but it's going to take time. _If_ he wakes up, we have no idea what his mental state will be. He's obviously been…” She paused, thinking of the right word. “...been tortured. Extensively.”

That rage began settling in his chest, hot and bubbling. Seth Rollins had completely lost it, gone way beyond too far. He'd kill him. If he ever saw him again he'd tear him limb from limb until there was nothing left, damn the consequences. Seth Rollins was a dead man. 

But that was later. Now, Dean would need him. “What do I do?”

“Just stay calm and be there for him.” She answered. “If he makes it through this first stage, we won't know how he’ll be. He will need you.”

\---

Dean made it through surgery. Barely. 

They finally let Roman see him. He wasn't sure what he expected, but what he was faced with was almost too much to bear. He hadn't hesitated when they led him to intensive care, but he did when they took him to Dean's room. 

The nurse stopped at the door and stepped aside, “Make sure you talk to him.” She said. “He’ll hear you. It’ll help.”

A quick nod and he stepped in. She shut the door behind him and he was alone with Dean. Good god, what did Seth do to him? He was unconscious, a tube down his throat the only thing helping him breathe. His hand and arm were bandaged, there was a wrapping around his chest, his foot was in a sling, and his gauze was disturbingly bloody. But the worst part was his face. Bruised and bloody, Roman didn't even recognize him when he first walked in. Yet, here he was. Alive. And he had to at least feel a little happy. 

He sat in the guest chair and just watched him for a moment. If it weren't for the bandages, the wires, and tubes he might even look peaceful. 

“Hey, Dean.”

The steady beep of the heart monitor was the only response he got. 

“It's me. Roman.”

He smiled when the heart monitor picked up for a few beats. 

“I'm here. I'll be here until you open your eyes.” He sniffed back a few tears and quickly wiped them from his face. “I know I didn't keep my promise, and I'm so sorry. But I will _not_ leave you again.”

He took Dean's limp hand in his and squeezed.

“Just...don't die on me.”

He couldn't hold it in any more. His head fell to the mattress and the tears flowed without even trying to hold them back. All he could do was repeat one word over and over and hope Dean heard him. 

“Please.”


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ummm...sorry? 
> 
> But the story is not over. Trust me, stick around.

Three days. 

Three days and he'd barely slept, he barely ate, and he barely cared. He wasn't leaving Dean's side, determined to be the first person he saw when he opened his eyes. And he _would_ open his eyes. Roman just knew he would. 

Dean was a fighter, a survivor, always had been. He lived through so much in his thirty years that most would have crumpled and given up by now. Not Dean. He always picked himself back up when he fell, always kept swinging, always did it with a smile on his face as if to say ‘fuck you universe! Try harder next time!’ 

But was what Seth did to him mentally survivable? Hell, they still weren't sure it was physically survivable. And neither was Roman, a fact that settled heavy in the pit of his stomach like a brick he couldn't get rid of. 

He had to know what was going on, so he had snuck a look at Dean's chart and sometimes he wished he didn't. Sometimes not knowing is better, lets that hope stick around a little longer. 

_Ambrose, Dean_  
Severe head trauma  
Four broken ribs  
Cracked vertebrae  
Collapsed lung  
Dislocated shoulder and elbow  
Torn muscles in back, shoulders, and chest  
Shattered hand  
Internal bleeding  
Severe bruising  
Missing toenails  
Broken left ankle  
Broken left fibula  
Dislocated left knee  
Severe anal tearing  
Infection 

Roman had to stop there. He couldn't even come close to the words to describe his hatred for Seth Rollins right now, there may not even be ones strong enough. How could one person be capable of such...such...unspeakable things? He couldn't wrap his head around it. Seth had been their brother, their friend, someone they stood side by side with, someone they closed down bars with. Now what was he? An attempted murderer? A rapist? 

How had it come to this? What made him finally snap?

He didn't know if he'd ever get the answers to any of those questions. Sometimes he didn't even want to know the answer. What he wanted was justice. Justice for the man lying here in a hospital bed, the man who used to be so strong and now looks so small. 

“Roman?”

He turned to find his cousins looking at him like they had looked at him everyday - sympathetic with more than a touch of pity. They didn't expect Dean to make it either. 

“Maybe you should go home for a few hours.” Jimmy said. 

Roman shook his head. “I can't. What if he wakes up? I need to be here.”

“It's been three days. What's three hours?” Offered Jey. “At least have them bring a cot in here.”

Though the idea of closing his eyes for even a second was scary, he conceded and Jey went to go ask a nurse. Jimmy put a hand on Roman's good shoulder and squeezed reassuringly. “You're no good to him if you drop dead of exhaustion.”

“I know.” Roman said. “I just promised him I'd never leave. I broke that and here we are.”

“You didn't break a promise, Roman.” Offered Jimmy. “You were shot. You had no choice.”

“That doesn't feel like a good enough excuse.”

Jimmy pulled up another guest chair and put a hand on Roman's knee. “You cannot beat yourself up over something you _couldn't_ control, Uce. What good is guilt now? What good will it be to him?”

Roman felt the tear roll down his cheek and quickly wiped it away. “I just can't help it. I feel so powerless. I can't do anything but wait and it's slowly killing me.”

His cousin offered him a small smile, “I know, Uce. I know.”

Then he looked at Jimmy hard. He knew by how his cousin sat up quickly he was unprepared for the fire in his eyes. “I want Seth Rollins’ head on a fucking plate. I want him to suffer for what he did. I want him _dead_ Jimmy. It's all I can think about outside of Dean. The fucking police have no leads and no idea of where to begin if Dean doesn't wake up. Seth may walk. I can't handle that. He needs to pay.”

As if by some cosmic middle finger in the face of everything, one of Dean's monitors began to beep wildly, followed by another. Within seconds, several nurses and doctors flooded into the room and began frantically buzzing around. 

“What the fuck is happening!” Roman yelled over everything. 

“We need you to leave the room.” One of the nurses instructed calmly but firmly.

Roman refused to let go of Dean's hand. “No! I'm not going anywhere!”

The nurse turned to Jimmy, “Please get him out of here so we can work.”

Jimmy took Roman by the shoulders and started pushing back, “Uce, we gotta let them save him. Let go.”

“No!” He cried even as he did just that, letting Deans limp fingers slide out of his own. “Jesus, please be alright!”

Jimmy and the nurse managed to shuffle Roman out the door with effort, the large Samoan unwilling to give in. Once out, she shut the door, leaving him to panic in the hallway. 

“Oh Jesus! Oh god!” 

“Roman calm down!” Jimmy said frantically. “You're going to hyperventilate!”

He didn't even realize he had fallen until he felt the cold linoleum under his palms. “He can't die! He can't!”

Jimmy’s arms were around him before he knew it and he was clinging tightly to his shirt as if it was the only thing real right now. He was rocking back and forth and crying without even caring. 

This could be it. 

He wasn't prepared for this.


	11. Chapter 11

Pacing didn't help; sitting made it worse; talking was out of the question. They had been relegated to the waiting room and Roman could not sit still. He lost count of the hours, but he knew it had to be upwards of four. They had to take Dean into emergency surgery. From what he managed to get out of the nurses, there was a bleed somewhere that needed to be stopped or he could go into cardiac arrest. The look on her face told him that if that were to happen, there would be no coming back. 

“What can I do?” He had asked her, trying desperately to keep it together. 

“What's your blood type?”

“O-negative.”

“Good. Follow me.” She led him to a small area to draw some blood. “Fresh works best and he's going to need a transfusion.”

“You can take it all, just help him.”

She smiled softly at him when she pricked his vein and the blood started flowing. “He's very lucky to have someone like you.”

“Sometimes it doesn't feel like he's lucky at all.”

“But he is.” She said. “So many patients come in and are so alone. But Dean has you. I can tell you love him very much.”

“I do.” He responded, the most true thing he had ever spoken. “I love him. He's my heart and he was taken from me. I would do anything to keep him safe.”

“He’ll need someone like you.”

He sighed. “If he wakes up.”

“Just have faith.” She said and removed the needle before putting a bandaid on. “He's made it this far.”

And she was gone. 

Then the waiting began. 

He felt like that's all he did anymore was wait. Wait to them to find him, wait for him to get out of surgery, wait for him to wake up, wait for them to save his life, wait, wait, wait. He hated it but could do absolutely nothing about it. He was powerless in every sense of the word. He had no control, none. 

“Uce, please sit down.” Jimmy sighed, annoyed. “You're giving me a headache.”

“Shut up Jimmy!” Jey snipped with a whack to his brother's arm. “Can't you see the man is distraught?”

“Distraught? Where'd you learn that word?”

Roman huffed a breath out loudly. “Would you both be quiet!”

“Sorry, Uce.” They responded in unison. 

As if on cue, the waiting room door opened and deans Doctor stepped through. Jimmy and Jey were immediately at Roman's side as the much smaller man stepped up to him. His face was unreadable when he spoke.

“Mr. Reigns?”

“Yeah?”

“We were able to stop the bleeding.” The doctor said and Roman nearly toppled over in relief. “He's currently stable and in recovery. I can take you back if you'd like to see him.”

“Yes!” He damn near yelled. “Doc, will he live?”

The doctor quirked a small smile. “It's still early, so I can't definitively say yes or no. But he's a fighter, I'll tell you that. And he's lucky to have someone like you.”

The doctor motioned for Roman to follow and he didn't hesitate. He was led through the maze of hospital hallways until he got to a room labeled ‘Recovery’. The doctor handed him a paper gown to cover himself, a pair of gloves, and a medical mask. He said the risk of further infection is very high right now, so Roman would have to cover himself as best he could. 

Dean looked much the same when Roman entered, save for the fresh bandaging around his chest. 

“Hey Dean.” He said quietly and took the younger man's hand in his. “I'm here, lover boy.”

The heart monitor beat a little faster again, causing Roman to smile. 

“I know you can hear me. Just wake up.”

There was a brief moment when he could have swore something twitched against his hand. It was so small, he might have dismissed it as nothing...until it happened again. 

“Dean?” 

This time he definitely felt it, a small bending of Dean's fingers into his. Dean was trying to wake up!

“Dean!” He pressed, his heart going a mile a minute. “That's it, squeeze my hand.”

Another bend of fingers and Roman laughed. “I'm here, Dean! Come back to me!”

This time there was definitely pressure against his hand. Roman could feel the happy tears on his face, but couldn't care to wipe them. 

“Nurse!” He yelled. 

Immediately the same nurse who had taken his blood earlier came running in, panicked. “What happened!?”

“He's squeezing my hand!”

“What?!” She ran to the monitors and started looking at the charts and numbers that Roman just didn't understand. “Jesus Christ. Keep talking to him. I'm getting the doctor!”

He nodded at her as she sped past him and did just that. “Dean, open your eyes. I want to see those baby blues. Please!”

His eyelashes began to flutter and Roman damn near jumped with joy. 

“That's it! Just open them!”

By now, two doctors and two nurses, dressed similar to Roman, were in the room watching everything. “How the hell is he waking up?” The one who lead Roman here said in disbelief. 

“He's Dean fucking Ambrose, that's how.” Roman answered. “C’mon Dean. You can do it.”

Slowly, fluttering eyelashes evolved into slow and unfocused movement of his eyes behind his lids. Then, they opened. It was brief and unfocused, but Dean Ambrose's eyes opened. 

“Dean!” 

The younger man's eyes opened again, blinked a few times, and finally focused on Roman. There was recognition there, maybe even a small smile. Then they slid closed again, but he had woken up. 

Roman was so happy he could jump up and down. Doctors were flitting around checking vitals and other monitors, but Roman's didn't care. There was still that pressure on his hand and he knew, somehow, it would be alright.

For now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HE'S ALIVE!


	12. Chapter 12

“Roman?” The nurse, a very nice young woman named Lizzy, said from the doorway of the waiting room. She was smiling when she sat down in the chair next to him. “The doctors are just finishing up. He's definitely still out of it, and probably in a lot of pain, but he's awake.”

They had shuffled Roman out again after Dean began to wake up to check everything and stabilize him. They said he would be out of it, confused, probably angry when he finally came to. Roman had protested, wanting so desperately to be the first one Dean saw, but ultimately gave in with little resistance. Maybe Dean did recognize him him his haze, he looked like he did but there was no way to tell. 

“Has he...has he said anything?”

She shook her head. “Well, he still has the breathing tube, the doc was getting ready to remove it just before I came out here. Strangely, he hasn't even made a sound.”

“Can I see him yet?”

She placed a hand on his forearm and squeezed reassuringly for a few seconds. “The doc gave him some pretty heavy pain meds and medication to calm him down. He’ll be very out of it…”

“I don't care.”

He smile widened a touch. “Then I can take you back.”

He followed her in silence to the room. She bid him wait a second while she checked things out inside. He felt antsy, nervous, like a teenager waiting to see his date for the first time. It was like an itch under his skin, one only seeing Dean smile could scratch. He wondered if he would smile. He wouldn't blame Dean if he curled into himself after what Seth had done. 

Fucking Seth Rollins.

His phone buzzed in his pocket and he looked at it quickly. He didn't recognize the number, but he knew the detectives had called from strange numbers before so he answered it with a quick “hello?”

There was a long pause, so long Roman almost hung up. 

_”You get my little gift, Roman?”_

His blood ran cold. “Seth?”

That cackle of his rang through the phone, only fueling the anger now rising. _“The one and only. How's he doing? I would say I was hoping he'd pull through, but I don't really care.”_

“You son of a bitch!” Roman growled, loudly. 

_“Oh, name calling. So scary!”_

“You want to see scary?” He snarled now, low and dangerous. “Tell me where you are and I'll show you in person.”

_“See, that's the kind of attitude that makes me not want to be your friend.”_

“You are so far from my friend that enemies isn't even a strong enough word!” He yelled. 

_“Good.”_ Seth laughed. _“At any rate, next time I'll just have to try harder to kill you. But maybe this is better. Now you see what I'm capable of.”_

“What happened to you, Seth? When did you finally lose your mind?”

That laugh broke through again, but he didn't answer the question. _“If he's still alive, give Dean my regards.”_

There was three beeps as Seth disconnected the call, leaving Roman more angry than before. In fact, he was fuming, kicking at anything he could - a trash can sent skittering down the hall with one well placed boot. When he finally looked up, the nurse was staring at him in disbelief. “I'm fine.” He growled through clenched teeth, anticipating her question.

In reality, he was anything but fine. He was pissed off and he really should call the detective immediately. But he had to see Dean first. Seth's words cut him and seeing Dean smile again might just heal those wounds a little. So, he took a few deep breaths to calm himself and forced a smile. 

Though she looked skeptical, she nodded and led him into the room. The doctors were still flitting around him, but Dean was already starting to look better. The tube was removed from his throat, some of the monitors and wires had been removed, but he still laid still on the mattress when Roman stepped up. 

He ran a hand through Dean's hair to get his attention and the younger man opened his eyes at the soft gesture. “Hey Dean.”

Blue eyes met stormy grey, but his face remained unfocused and hazy. Roman continued to stroke his hair lovingly.

“How you doing?”

Suddenly, tears began rolling from Dean's eyes as obvious recognition set in. Roman would have no way of knowing, but when he spoke it would be the first thing Dean had said in months. It was hoarse, groggy, and heavy with unused effort. “Y-you-you're d-d-dead.”

Roman had to wipe the tears from his own eyes, “No baby, I'm right here. I ain't going anywhere.”

Then tears turned to panic in the Lunatic Fringe and his monitors began beeping wildly. “Seth!”

Roman tried to soothe him, kissing his forehead and stroking his hair. “No, Seth's gone! No Seth!”

It wasn't helping. Finally the doctors injected something into the IV and Dean's eyes began to flutter closed. The last thing he said before unconsciousness took over would haunt Roman forever.

“H-he’ll b-be ba-ack…”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wasn't a huge fan of this chapter. I really struggled with it. I hope it came across alright. It's been a little tough for me lately, with some stuff going on irl. But hey, I know where I wanna go, I just gotta get there.


	13. Chapter 13

“So, he just called you?” The detective asked with a skeptical look that Roman honestly found insulting. “Out of the blue? Just like that?”

“I don't know why this is such a hard concept for you.” Roman replied, pinching the bridge of his nose as his headache seemed to increase with every passing second. “He's insane, obviously. I don't know why he has this vendetta against me, but he does. He says I took everything from him. In his head, I'm the enemy and he's going to get back at me with everything he has. Not only that, but he's gloating about it. He's always been megalomaniacal, but this is something entirely different.”

The detective shifted a little in his seat, obviously not happy Roman had jumped down his throat like he had. He cleared his throat to try to cover up the uneasiness in his voice. “I know you're frustrated, Roman. But you have to understand that, from our standpoint, this is highly unusual. This is the sort of stuff you might expect from some movie serial killer.” 

“I get that.” Roman offered. “But Seth is obviously different.”

The detective ran a hand through his blonde hair and shuffled a few papers in the folder in front of him before finding what he was looking for. “We've tried to trace the call. It must have been a burner phone.”

“Seth isn't stupid enough to let himself get caught on a technicality like tracing a cellphone.” Said Roman with a sigh. “But he’ll call again. And when he does, I'll find him.”

“How do you know he'll call again?” 

Roman sighed, “I've known Seth for years. He has an ego the size of the Chrysler building. He wants to know that he made me suffer, that Dean has suffered. He doesn't feel like he finished the job. Trust me, he'll call.”

“Well, we can't do anything until then.” Said the detective, closing the folder and gathering his things from the hospital cafeteria table. “You call me immediately, understand? Try and get as much information out of him as you can.”

“I will.”

The detective stood and offered his hand to Roman, who shook it quickly. He made a move to leave, but stopped. “How is Dean doing?”

“Better every day.” Roman answered with a sad smile. It was true, Dean was doing better physically. Mentally, he'd become withdrawn. He hadn't said much since that first day awake, and doctors found that they had to sedate him more often than not. He knew it would be a process, but Roman just wanted his Dean back. 

The detective nodded. “We’ll get Rollins. I promise.”

Roman smiled and thanked him as he left, though he felt anything but reassured. They didn't know Seth like Roman did and he worried that The Architect would outsmart the law. Hell, he'd done it for this long. 

Back at Dean's room, things were exactly how they had been since he woke up. Today, it seems, they hadn't sedated him and he stared emotionlessly at the tiled ceiling. It tore Roman up every time he looked at him like this. Just so broken. Dean had always been a vibrant personality, and Seth took it away. 

He always approached Dean carefully now, never quite sure to his reaction at seeing him. Somehow, he still had it in his head that Roman was dead. Hell, he'd seen Seth shoot him in the chest before being physically and mentally tortured for months. 

Dean didn't look at him when he approached, but allowed Roman to smooth his unruly hair back and kiss him gently on the forehead. “How are you today, Dean?”

There was no answer, which didn't surprise the Samoan. He'd begin just talking to him, reading wrestling articles, recounting what was going on in WWE, anything to try and get Dean to speak or, at the very least, listen to Roman's voice. He hoped that was some comfort to the younger man. 

He sat in the guest chair and pulled out the most recent wrestling magazine he could get his hands on. There was a large arrival about Dean on the cover, but Roman always avoided those. Instead he opened to the rankings. “Looks like Cesaro moved up a few spots this week, Dean. Says he could be a good contender for the title in a few months. Owens moved up too, they expect him to go after the IC belt again. I don't know why he just moves on from that thing. But, hey, whatever floats his boat right? Fandango and Breeze are going after the tag belts. I'm sure the New Day -”

“He told me you were dead.” 

Roman looked up. “What?”

Dean was still staring at the ceiling, but tears were now dripping from his eyes and pooling in his hair. “He told me you were dead, every day. Hell, I watched him shoot you. He said ‘Roman isn't coming to save you. You're mine.’ I didn't see the point in fighting back. What was I without you?” His glassy blue eyes turned and met Roman's. “Does that make me weak?”

Roman was on his feet immediately, taking Dean's hand and holding it tightly. “No. You're not weak. You'll never be weak. You _survived_.”

“I wish I hadn't.” He sniffed. “I hoped he would just kill me, but he never did. When he said he was getting rid of me, I was relieved. But then...I woke up here.”

“But you're back with me.” Added Roman with what he hoped was a reassuring smile. 

“Yeah…” Dean responded, chuckling humorlessly. “I'm still not convinced you're real.”

Roman leaned down and kissed Dean lightly on the lips. “Did that feel real?”

“Yes.”

“Good.” Roman said. “Then I'm real.”

“What am I supposed to do now, Roman?” He asked suddenly, tears again collecting in his eyes. 

He smoothed back Dean's hair again, making sure to smile, to comfort, even if he was so broken up inside. “You're supposed to get better. Then we can figure it out from there.”

“Why would you want to stay with me?”

“Because I love you.”


	14. Chapter 14

Seth liked to sit back and watch the world burn around him. He liked knowing he was the cause. A few nudges in the right direction and everything comes crashing down. It was fun. People were like ants, so predictable. That's why he'd win. He'd always win. 

Because Seth Rollins wasn't supposed to lose. Losing was not an option, it was for the weak and feeble minded masses like Dean and Roman. Not Seth. Never Seth! 

Somehow, he didn't feel like he lost. Dean was still in the ICU, Roman hadn't left his side, neither would wrestle again, and he'd gotten away with it. 

Morons, all of them. 

But there was still that itch under his skin to win. Despite the fact he's ruined their careers, ruined their lives, his was also in shambles. He'd never wrestle again, not after all of this, not after Roman busted his ankle over a year ago. So all he had left was them. 

Funny how he hates them so much but can't live without them. Making Roman's life hell has been the highlight of his year, only trumped by making Dean his again. He shouldn't have let the Lunatic go. Strangely, he missed him. He, Dean, and Roman would be forever entwined with each other and there was nothing any of them could do about it. 

“Fuck.” He spat to himself, frustration and realization dangerously gripping his chest. “I need them back.”

He wasn't stupid though, far from it, this would take planning. He'd already made the mistake of calling Roman, even if he needed to hear how he'd destroyed his spirit. It gave him that cheap thrill he was looking for, but he knew the lumbering Samoan would have called the police. That's why he used a throwaway phone. 

He needed to get closer, keep an eye on them, wait for the right time. He could do nothing while they were in the hospital, not with all those people around, not with Dean probably hooked to every monitor the hospital had. Even if he wanted to sneak into his room, they'd know. 

Oh Dean, beautiful broken Dean. Seth had done that. He should feel proud of breaking him like he said he would, but it felt like an empty victory. He got no response from the man, ever, and that pissed him off more than anything. Nothing Seth did could make him even utter the smallest whimper of pain. He longed for the days when Dean would come crawling to Seth for help, for the attention he needed, for the punishment he longed for. Seth happily obliged, bending Dean over and revealing in his desperate cries of pleasure and pain. He lived to feel Dean willingly bend and break under him. 

Now, with Roman in the picture things were different. Dean had found his soulmate and it wasn't Seth Rollins. It's not that he loved Dean in any capacity other than loving to hate him, but there has always been something special between the two of them. With Roman, Dean got love and acceptance, something he rarely got from anyone. 

Maybe Seth was jealous of that, even if it was brief. Maybe he did the things he did to cope with his feelings for both men. They had been friends once upon a time, willing to fight and die for each other. Now? Well, now they were nothing but enemies, and Seth found it much easier to hate them then to be anything other. 

So now he waited. He'd wait and he'd watch, just like he did now. Roman had a pattern - predictable asshole. He barely left the hospital, but when it did it was merely to shower and change his clothes. Then he was back. He got shitty hospital coffee, a bagel, and some magazines before he went to Dean's room. After that, Seth usually wouldn't see him until later in the day when he again went to the cafeteria for some sort of dinner. Then, the process would repeat. 

This went on for almost a month. Dean had to be doing better by now, but he wouldn't risk trying to find out. 

Not yet. 

\---

“C’mon Dean, stop trying to fight me and move over.” 

Dean just looked at him with a scowl, but did as he was asked and Roman climbed in beside him. He didn't say anything when Roman threw an arm over him, but did cuddle down into his chest. This is how things had been for a while now and Roman believed that Dean still wasn't quite sure whether or not he was real. He tried to show him with touches and light kisses, and he seemed to be coming around slowly, but days like today were tough. 

These were the days when Dean refused to speak. He huddled into himself and just stopped talking, preferring to stare out the window or at his hands, trapped in his own head. Roman wondered if he was just replaying the past few months in his mind. He was still distant, still not the same mentally, but physically he was miles better. They had moved him out of the ICU, stopped sedating him, and even let Roman wheel him around the hospital for a few hours. But they always came back to this, to the quiet...to each other. 

It would take work, lots of work, and there was talk about releasing Dean from the hospital. The doctors were impressed with his physical healing, but we're still concerned about him mentally. They had referred a psychologist to them, one who had already made one visit with no progress. Dean refused to talk to her, he wouldn't even look at her, and she ended up talking to Roman for the entire session. She said they'd try again soon because Dean needed help. Roman had just nodded. 

“The doctors said you'll be able to come home soon.” Roman said to Dean, lightly carding his fingers through his hair. “I'm sure you'd be happy to be out of here.”

There was no answer, just a slight shiver that Roman knew was not the cold. Dean tried so hard to hold in his tears, but sometimes they just spilled out of him against his will. It was best not to mention them. 

“You've got to be sick of hospital food. I know I am.” He continued, holding tighter. “I'm going to cook you a big steak when we get out of here. Would you like that?”

No response. 

“Yeah, a big steak just like you like it - so rare it's still mooing.”

There was a small chuckle in response to that and Roman smiled. That was getting somewhere. 

“We could do some asparagus, the kind that makes your pee smell funny.”

More laughter. Toilet humor, typical Dean. 

“No asparagus.” Came the small voice.

Roman smile widened. “Ok. What would you like then?”

Dean looked up at Roman, eyes glassy but a wistful smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “I want a burger. A big, greasy burger with bacon and cheese. French Fries and a big chocolate milkshake.”

“That can be arranged.” Roman chuckled. “What else would you like?”

Dean looked into Roman's eyes and the smile fell, the tears already forming at the corners of his eyes. “To forget. To be ok. To go back in time and make sure Seth Rollins was never born.”

All he could do was pull Dean against him and hold tight. “I wish I could do that for you. I'd have taken your place in a heartbeat.”

“No!” Dean shouted and pulled away, taking Roman by surprise. “You do not say that!”

“I-I'm sorry.”

“Please...just go.”

“What?”

Dean physically pushed Roman out of the hospital bed. “Leave me alone!”

“Dean…”

Dean flipped onto his side away from him and curled into himself sobbing. Roman tried to comfort, to touch, but Dean pulled away each time, rocking ever so slightly. “Don't touch me!”

The jump in emotion was so sudden Roman wasn't sure how to react. Should he stay? Should he go? Should he get someone?

“Ok.” He conceded finally after a long moment of struggle within himself. “Ok, I'm leaving.”

He grabbed him things slowly, hoping Dean would change his mind, but he never even turned to look at him. Though it pained him, he did as asked and quietly left the room, vowing to come back in the morning. Maybe Dean just needed some space. 

Though he hoped for it, Dean never called after him, he never said a word.


	15. Chapter 15

_“Roman, we really need you to come back to the hospital.”_

The voice through the phone was familiar, one of Dean's doctors. He sounded frantic, breathless, panicked almost, and Roman got the sudden feeling that something terrible had happened. “What's wrong?”

_“He's having some sort of fit. We can't calm him down and he's locked himself in his room.”_ he said and Roman could hear him run his hand down his face. _“We know he's been through alot and we don't want to force that door open for fear of what he might do. Please come try and talk to him.”_

“How bad is it?” Roman asked, already grabbing his keys. 

_“Well, listen.”_ The doc must have held up the phone because all Roman could hear was Dean screaming, crashing noises, and more screaming. _“He's going to hurt himself.”_

He was already in the car when he spoke again. “I'll be there in ten.”

Sure enough, he was. Roman broke every traffic law known to man to do it, but he was running down the hospital hallway toward Dean's room in ten minutes on the nose. There was a congregation of doctors and nurses huddled around his door, as well as a police officer - should the situation escalate. 

“Roman, thank god.” The doctor, the one he had spoke to on the phone, breathed in relief. “He won't listen to anyone.”

As Roman got closer he could hear Dean muttering to himself something he couldn't make out through the door, there was still noises of things crashing or being moved, and the odd sob of his lover. 

He didn't say anything to the doctor, rather he pushed his way through the small crowd to the door and knocked softly on it.

“GO AWAY!” Dean screamed from somewhere in the room behind. “LEAVE ME ALONE!”

He tried to stay as calm as he could. “Dean, it's Roman.”

There was no reply, but it seemed as if he had gone quiet, listening. 

Taking that as a good sign, Roman continued. “Are you alright in there?”

“Do I _fucking_ sound alright?” He spat harshly, much closer to the door that he must have been directly on the other side. 

Roman's heart broke in two for the second time that day. “No, you don't. Can I come in?”

There was a faint thumping then a dragging sound down the door. He must have slid down to the floor. “Why?”

“I want to help you.” He replied, crouching down. 

“No, I mean why would you want me anymore?” He asked, his voice cracking with emotion. “I'm broken, he broke me.”

Roman tried to keep his emotions in check, for Dean, fearful he might do something stupid. “Please let me in.”

There was a long silence, some shifting, and the sound of the door unlocking. Roman turned to the crowd and held his hand out to them so they'd give him a few minutes. The doctor nodded, though the police officer didn't look happy. 

He slid inside and closed the door behind him. The room was trashed. Anything that wasn't nailed down was strewn around the room, the privacy curtain was pulled free and lying over the overturned bed, IV and monitor stands were thrown against walls with fluids and wires pulled from the casings. How Dean even managed to do this was baffling. And there he stood in the center of the room, watching Roman carefully. He was a mess, shirt torn and blood dripping down his left arm where he must have torn the IV out, with tears staining his flushed face. 

Roman tried to stay calm. “What happened?”

“Seth Rollins happened.” He answered, voice hoarse. “He did this.”

“Dean, _you_ did this.” 

A wave of confusion followed by shock followed by anger washed across his face in a matter of seconds. He let out a long scream that was so full of pain and anguish that Roman honestly didn't know what to do other than watch him. When he had screamed so long he was no longer making a sound, he drew in a long harsh breath and did it again. 

“Dean…” Roman took a step toward him.

Dean flinched back a few steps. “Don't!”

“What do you need me to do?”

Angry, wet eyes lifted to meet his. “I need you to go away!”

He chanced another step forward. “I'm not going to do that, Dean.”

“Why?” He sobbed. “You're going to anyway! Everyone does! I'm nothing...nothing…you'll realize I'm not worth the trouble, especially like this, and you'll leave!”

Another careful step forward, “No, I won't. We've been through too much together. I love you.”

“You shouldn't.”

Roman was right in front of him now, looking directly into desperate, tortured eyes. “We’ll get through this, Dean.” His voice was barely a whisper. 

Deans bottom lip quivered for the briefest of seconds before he grabbed Roman and pulled him against him, clinging desperately to his shirt as he sobbed. Roman was barely able to keep him from falling to the ground, but did manage to lower him to his knees. It was then that the doctors finally entered and surrounded them. Roman felt Dean tense and pull harder on his shirt. 

It took three large orderlies and Roman to finally get Dean settled in another room. They had sedated him and restrained his arms and legs for fear of this happening again. The doctor pulled Roman aside. He didn't look happy about what he was about to say. 

Roman beat him to it, “I'm taking him out of here.”

“Roman, you have no legal right to do that.” The doctor sighed. “Only he can do that and, quite frankly, I think he should be detained at a mental health facility for evaluation.”

“You can't do that.”

“I can, and I'm going to.” Countered the doc. “Look, he's a danger to himself and others. You know it and I know it.”

Roman felt anger flush his face, “That man has been through hell, you can't put him through more.”

“I'm sorry.” Said the doc. 

\---

Seth watched from his parked car. There had been little action today until Roman's car barreled into the parking lot at breakneck speed. Something happened, something big. 

An hour or so later, out came Dean, strapped to a gurney and placed into an ambulance. Roman wasn't far behind, yelling and pointing at the paramedics, who were pushing him back as they closed the doors. 

Whatever was going put a desperate look on Roman's face and that made Seth smirk. As the ambulance drove off, Roman was left standing there with his hands tugging at his hair in frustration. He screamed a curse and huffed back toward the building. 

Seth had two choices. He could follow the ambulance or Roman. He had to know where they were taking Dean, so he put the car in gear and followed the paramedics, leaving Roman at the hospital for now. He wouldn't be hard to find. 

He followed them carefully, just in case, for forty five minutes. 

“Oh, that's perfect!” He laughed to himself when they pulled into the gated mental health hospital. A plan began forming in his mind and he sneered.

“Perfect…”


	16. Chapter 16

It was easy enough. Shaving his beard, wearing his glasses, cutting his hair, and Seth Rollins no longer looked like Seth Rollins. It made it easier to get around that way. All those news outlets only had photos of his wrestling days, so now he blended in with the help of a quick style change. Gone were the skinny jeans and band tee shirts, now he wore ugly khakis and polos. It served its purpose, especially when interviewing for the new orderly position at the asylum. 

Good thing there weren't many applicants. 

“Well, Mr. Black, you seem like a strong and capable young man, we'd love someone like you on our team.”

Seth stood and shook the superintendents hand with the largest fake smile he could muster. “Thank you sir. I really think this will help with my psychology degree!”

“Well, you won't really be interacting with the patients, but we can try to get you some chances to sit with the psychologists if you like.”

“That would be wonderful, sir.” Seth lied. He could care less about even actually working in this dump. He didn't need the money, he needed to get at Dean. 

The date was set for him to start and he arrived bright eyed and bushy tailed, ready to find the lunatic and have a little fun. Granted, looking in the mirror this morning at his closely cropped hair and lack of beard meant Dean may not recognize him, but perhaps that would be better. Really throw him off, drive him more insane, make sure he stays in this place for the rest of his life. 

After all, isn't this where lunatics belong anyway? Seth was just saving a few years of Dean figuring out he should be locked up in a straight jacket, because it was inevitable. It always was.

The man showing him around had been babbling on for hours about what Seth should do, how he should act with the patients, how he should perform his job, blah, blah, blah. He didn't care! He just needed a second alone to find Dean's room. Maybe he could charm one of the nurses into helping him out. It wasn't like he didn't see that busty blonde checking him out. Women weren't really his thing, but he was sure he could take one for the team to get what he wanted. 

And she was far more eager than he had expected. He had to fuck her in the janitor's closet, but she gave him Dean's room number. 0604. Surprisingly fitting. 

The sixth floor was for those deemed a danger to themselves or others. The patient's there were usually restrained, limited in what they could have (including utensils, shoelaces, belts, and bedsheets), and wernt typically allowed visitors. 

Perfect.

That meant a surprise visit from Roman was not going to happen. He could barely contain the excitement when he climbed the stairs on his lunch hour until he got to the sixth floor. He was jittery and buzzing with anticipation. What would he find in room 0604? Would it be Dean or that broken shell he'd turned him into? 

All he had to do was flash his badge and the desk orderly let him through. They weren't too interested in him at this point, concerned really with the baseball game playing on the small screen at the desk. 

Finding his room wasn't difficult, and within a few minutes he was standing in front of the locked door of room 0604. The key they gave him at the beginning would open it and he slipped it into the lock with no problem. 

A small smile spread across his face as he reached for the doorknob. His heart was pumping and he let himself imagine a drooling, broken Dean Ambrose for a moment. When he opened the door, he paused to take in the sight. 

There he was, looking so small. They had him restrained to the bed by his wrists and ankles, a light pair of scrubs and a tee shirt the only thing covering him. He was staring out the only window in the room, an unreadable look on his face. It was obvious he was on some sort of medication, but he wasn't the drooling, slobbering mess Seth had hoped for. He just seemed...lost. 

A sudden heaviness settled in Seths chest, one he had never felt before. He didn't feel that satisfaction he had hoped for. There was no pushing any further. He'd won but it felt like a hollow victory. 

Was this...guilt?

He almost walked out, ready to just disappear, when a small voice spoke. “Roman?”

Seth tried to mask his voice, knowing Dean would always recognize that, by upping changing the pitch and adding a southern drawl. “No, sorry.”

Seth looked up and Dean was eyeing him with confused disappointment. That seemed to intensify that heavy feeling, twisting it until it spread to his chest. If Dean recognized him, he made no indication. Though, he was heavily medicated, Seth could tell by the faraway look in his eyes that were focused but not really. 

“Could you find him for me?” Dean asked and Seth sighed. He needed to get out of there, regroup and come up with a new approach. 

“What's he look like?”

Dean smiled, remembering Roman. “He's tall. Broad shoulders. Tan skin. A tattoo down his right arm. He's beautiful...so beautiful.”

“I'll see what I can do.” Seth answered and made to leave, but Dean spoke again. 

“He loves me, you know.” It was a sleepy, far away assertion that Seth could tell Dean found 100% true. That bothered Seth more than he thought it would. “He'll come visit soon…”

“I'm sure he will.” Seth responded through gritted teeth. 

“You'll tell him I'm here, right?”

“Y-yeah. I'll tell him.”

“Thanks, Seth.”

Seth's blood ran cold. Did Dean recognize him? Was it just the medication? Why didn't he seem more angry if he knew this was Seth? Why wasn't he lashing out?

His voice was full of adrenaline when he spoke, hoping drugged out Dean would buy it. “My name isn't Seth, it's Tyler. Tyler Black.”

“Oh.” Dean said, though looking confused, like he could see something in the way Seth looked at him. But he seemed to accept it and looked back out the window. “Thanks, Tyler.” 

With a nod, Seth left the room quickly and relocked it. Leaning his back against the door, re ran a hand down his face. 

God. Fucking. Dammit.


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ANGST AHOY!

“You are going to let me in, goddammit, or I will not be responsible for my actions!”

“Mr. Reigns, you need to calm down.”

The poor nurse looked terrified while she spoke to him. Admittedly, roman reigns could be very intimidating; it's why he was able to get as far as he did in the WWE. He usually wouldn't throw that formidable weight around, but these people were keeping him from the one person he couldn't live without. That was unacceptable. He'd get a lawyer if he had to, but they were going to let him see Dean!

He'd been playing this game with them for days now and it's always been the same dog and pony show. ‘We're sorry Mr. Reigns’ and ‘We apologize’. But always the same NO. He wasn't going to take that for an answer today, not while there was breath in his lungs. Every day they told him tomorrow and he was sick of it. He wanted to see Dean and he wanted to see him NOW.

“You don't understand, he _needs_ me!” He growled at her. To her credit, aside from a passing flinch, she stood her ground. He supposed working in a place like this would make you tougher than the average bear. 

She sighed, very much done playing this game as well. “Dean Ambrose is not allowed visitors at this-”

“Do I look like I give a fuck?” He screamed at her and he pretended to not see her reach for the security button. It wasn't the first time he'd been escorted out of this place and it wouldn't be the last if they kept this up. “I just need ten minutes. If you don't let me see him, I'm just going to be back tomorrow and this will start all over again.”

“Mr. Reigns…”

“Don't ‘Mr. Reigns’ me!” He could feel the tears burning his eyes and he had to take a moment to compose himself, taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly while counting to five. “I'm sorry. It's just...fuck. I love that son of a bitch and he's all alone here. I just want him to know I haven't given up on him. He _needs_ to know that!”

She sighed again, this time a more resigned huff of breath as opposed to the annoyed ones he'd been getting and he thought for a glimmer of a second she might let him through. When she merely apologized again, he knew it was useless to keep trying today and resigned himself to sulking angrily from the building. 

Why did no one understand? 

He'd almost made it to his car when he heard his name called from the parking lot. “Mr. Reigns! Mr. Reigns!”

A young man, maybe in his mid thirties, was running toward him. The only thing that have him away as a doctor was the stark white lab coat that was trailing behind him like a cape. Roman waited patiently for the doctor to reach him. The poor man was huffing in large lungfuls of air, obviously not used to the strenuous exercise, even if he didn't appear to be in bad shape. He handed Roman a piece of paper. “I overheard you talking to the nurse. I can't imagine being separated from my wife like that, especially if she needed me. Dean needs you, that much I know.”

Roman turned it over in his hand and stared at the visitors pass in shock. He didn't even try to stop himself from throwing his arms around the doctor and squeezing until the poor man started tapping his shoulder like he'd been put in a submission hold. When Roman let go with an apology, the doctor took in a large breath before straightening his tie and smoothing out his dress shirt. “That's only good for right now, and they'll only give you twenty minutes because of deans status, but it's the best I can do.”

This tears were threatening once more and Roman almost reached out to hug this poor man again. “I-I don't know how to thank you.”

The young doc offered him a smile. “No need to thank me, just follow me. I've already told the staff to get him ready in a private room.”

Roman followed after the doc back into the mental health facility and just barely refrained from sticking his tongue out at the front desk nurse as he passed. He led him to an elevator and hit the button for the 6th floor. The entire ride up Roman felt that familiar anticipation begin to build in his chest. 

“I have to warn you, Roman,” Began the doc, probably in an effort to break the silence. “He's being kept medicated. Every time we try to ween him off, he tries to hurt himself or those around him.”

That broke Roman a bit more, remembering how he was in the hospital before they sent him here. That scream would be branded into his head until the day he died, just so utterly broken. 

Once the doors opened again, he followed the doctor down a hallway. He tried to ignore the sounds of screaming and weeping and laughing all rolled into one continuous hum of terrifying soundtrack that seems so fitting for a place like this. Everything was white, which was ungodly unnerving. He thought places like this were supposed to be calming? It felt like the exact opposite. 

He was so lost in thought he didn't see the orderly pass by until he hit him in the shoulder. 

“Sorry.” He said, but the man just kept walking, not even acknowledging he'd run into anything. Maybe working here just desensitized a person, so he let it go. 

At the end of the hallway, the doctor opened the door and let Roman it. The room was all white as well, and shockingly bare. There was nothing but four walls and one single chair bolted to the floor. 

“It takes a little getting used to, but this is for their own good.” The doc said at his side, probably referring to the look on Roman's face. “No one on this floor is allowed anything they can hurt themselves with if we can help it.”

Roman simply nodded his understanding. And he did understand, he just didn't like the fact that Dean was stuck here being watched like some animal in a cage. The doctor have him a reassuring smile before telling Roman they would be in with Dean in a few minutes before leaving. Roman thanked him again and made a mental note to send him a fruit basket or something. 

All he could do now was sit in the chair and wait. 

When the door opened again, Roman held his breath. Then there he was, being wheeled into the room in a wheelchair. He was a stark contrast to the Dean Roman had come to love and it tore him up inside to see someone so strong look so utterly and completely broken. His eyes were red rimmed and puffy with a far away, dreamy quality that Roman attributed to whatever drugs they had him on. It appeared that they had shaved his face and gave him a little haircut and he wondered if Dean had requested that. Dean could never stand beard stubble. 

It didn't matter though, because he was here and Roman could hold him and tell him he loved him. The orderly told Roman that he had twenty minutes and they would be watching on the security cameras. He simply nodded, eyes never leaving Dean who had yet to look at him. 

Once they were gone, he knelt down infront of the wheelchair and put a hand on Dean's knee to get his attention. Finally, blue eyes lifted and met his and he almost broke down right there at the pain and anguish he saw there. There was a confused sort of recognition when Dean spoke,voice broken like he hadn't used it in months. “Roman?”

“Hi Dean.” He breathed softly, trying to keep his voice even. 

Dean was clawing at his shirt to pull him close and Roman didn't fight it. He wrapped his arms around Roman and held on for dear life, like if he let go he might disappear into a puff of smoke. 

“Did Tyler find you?” He breathed through his drugged haze. Roman had no idea who Tyler was. “He-he said he'd tell you I-I needed you...”

Roman sniffed and pulled away just enough to kiss Dean lovingly on the forehead, then on the cheek, and finally on the lips. “I'm so sorry you're here, Dean.” He said after the kiss ended and he pressed their foreheads together.

“I need to be here, Ro.” Dean sniffed, fingers still tangled in the back of Roman's shirt, continuing to try to pull him as close as he could physically get him because neither knew when they would see each other again.

“But you're alone.” 

“I'm sick, Roman.” Dean said after a beat and that made what little Roman had left crumble. 

“Seth is the sick one.” Roman snarled. “The slimy son of a bitch has disappeared. He can't get away with this, Dean. Not for what he did to you. Not for what he's still doing to you.”

“B-but he has.” Dean muttered.

“Goddammit, Dean.” Roman cursed, tears beginning to fall down his cheeks again. A rough thumb reached up and wiped them away, which made Roman huff out a small laugh. He should be the cone comforting Dean, not the other way around. “What are we going to do with each other, baby?”

“I dunno, Ro.” Dean said and kissed him. “Maybe we should just...move on.”

“No! No way!” Roman found himself barking, more angry then he should be. “I told you I loved you and I'd never leave you and I mean it.”

Dean smiled sadly just as the door to the visitors room opened. It took two orderlies and Roman to pry Dean's arms free. They were so unwilling to let go of each other, clinging to what little time they had. The last thing Roman saw was Dean grin with glassy eyes and he hoped, he hoped so hard, that he could get better here. That this was a place he'd find some sort of peace out of so much damage. 

\---

Seth watched Roman leave the hospital from the sixth floor window. To be honest, he thought the large Samoan might have spotted him when he shoulder checked him in the hallway, but he was so preoccupied he knew Roman would just keep going. 

“Hey Tyler.” One of the other orderlies called and Seth looked back. “Ambrose is asking for you.”

With one last look at Roman, Seth grinned. Roman was always the target and Roman would remain the target.

“I'll be right there.” He said.

Dean may have gotten to him somehow, which he hated, but that didn't mean Roman had to know that.


	18. Chapter 18

Roman had finally seen Dean, but for the life of him he couldn't bring himself to find any closure in the meeting. If anything, seeing Dean looking so small, such a shadow of his former self, Roman felt the undeniable need to sweep him up and take him away from everything...or just leave there. The latter did nothing but raise a guilt in his gut that tore him up inside because it would be so easy to just leave him there. Hell, Dean had even asked him to move on. 

But he couldn't.

He shouldn't.

He did love Dean very much, but they both needed to move away from this tragedy. Yet, for Roman to just forget about Dean like he was some sort of broken toy made him absolutely no different than Seth. He refused to be that man.

And Dean. Poor, dismantled, Dean could not get out from under the foreboding shadow that was Seth Rollins, he could see it painted all over his face. It was chipping at his very sanity, eating it away until there would be nothing left of the old Dean that Roman fell in love with. He was a shell, a hollow thing, nothing but the pain and anguish that had been placed upon him. Dean would never be the same.

Would either of them?

“What am I supposed to do?” He muttered into his hands, running them through his hair and tugging on the locks like the pain would somehow give him the answers he so longed for. His mind was a whirlwind of thoughts and feelings that nothing seemed to quell. Not even the bottle of bourbon sitting on his counter in the kitchen that had once been so neat and tidy. But he couldn't bring himself to care about a few dirty dishes or bread gathering mold in the breadbox. 

The bottle, however, was far more empty than he'd care to admit. It started when Dean first disappeared, a sip or two to calm the nerves. Now, that glass never seemed to be empty. He knew this was a slippery slope to go down, but he couldn't give a fuck at this point. What else did he have? He had no wrestling, no career, no Dean, nothing but an empty house that used to be filled with the tornado that was Dean Ambrose. 

It was too quiet now, too cold, and he hated being here. His cousins had tried to at least fill some of the void of loneliness that creeped into his very soul, but they could only do so much. Besides, they couldn't fill his bed. He missed the warm press of Dean against him, he missed the way he kicked him in the middle of the night, he missed the small puddle of drool that pooled on his chest when Dean slept there, he missed the sex, the heat, the kisses, the laughs...all of it.

And he'd never get it back. Not the same way. 

So what was a few shots of bourbon to warm him even for a few minutes? 

It burned his throat every time he took a sip, and he hated the god awful taste of the cheapest alcohol he could get, but it dulled the thoughts swirling in his brain, and he always found himself taking another drink. It did its job. 

But Roman did not, and the disgrace he felt in his very being was enough to drive him to swig directly from the bottle.

He didn't protect him. He wasn't there. Despite the fact that he had been shot, he should have fought harder to protect him. How could he have let Seth do this? How could he have let Seth _destroy_ Dean like he had? Tears were no consolation, so he wiped them away and let the liquid burn his throat again. 

Then it was empty, just like he was. Empty and alone. The glass shattering against the far wall was oddly satisfying, even before he threw it, but it still did nothing to calm him. His knees gave way and the tile of the kitchen floor was notably cool when he curled up on it. 

Then the sound of his own sobbing filled his ears and he couldn't bring himself to care. Everything had gone to shit, everything was horribly tragic and wrong and terrifying! So why should he care that he was lying on the floor, weeping for a man who would never be like the one he loved again? 

He just needed things to be like they were, and they never would be. That was wishing on a star that didn't exist. 

He didn't remember falling asleep.

Nor did he care.

It was the buzzing of his phone that drew him from his position on the floor, clawing his way to the counter where he left it and sniffing away the last of his useless tears. 

An unknown number.

He answered it with a quick ‘Hello?’, knowing this could be Seth. 

But all he heard on the other end of he one was Dean, rambling in a drugged haze about wrestling. 

“Who is this?” 

Still nothing but Dean talking. He seemed far away, like the phone wasn't close to him, but he could hear him loud and clear. 

_“The Shield were the best, yah know.”_ he was saying _“We couldn't be stopped…”_

“Who the fuck is this?”

Still nothing. It was a few more moments of Dean talking before the call disconnected and he stared at the phone as if it had just insulted his ancestors. 

What the fuck was that? 

Then it dawned on him. It could only be one person, the only person who would torture him like this.

Seth. Fucking. Rollins.

He tried to call the number back, tried to get the connection reestablished, but nothing. 

“God fucking dammit!”

He was about to call the detectives when his phone buzzed again, a text message this time from the same number. 

_He talks a lot about the Shield_

He typed his response quickly. **Seth!?**

_Maybe._

**If you fucking hurt him I'll kill you myself.**

_Yeah, good luck with that._

**I'm begging you, just leave him alone.**

There was a long, long pause before Seth answered and Roman's blood ran cold. 

_No._


	19. Chapter 19

Seth smiled to himself as he looked at his phone. After his last message, a simple ‘no’, Roman's had become increasingly aggressive. 

**You son of a bitch! He's been through enough!**

**_Seth, you hear me!?_ **

**Fucking answer me!**

**Just wait ‘till I get my hands around your scrawny neck, you fucking cocksucker!**

“There was a time I thought I loved him, you know.” Dean said from the bed, dreamy and drugged out, drawing Seth's attention away from his phone. He had been jabbering on about random things for over an hour now, talking like Seth wasn't even there. He'd obviously taken a liking to the Tyler persona, and the staff noted that he was the only one Dean would open up to about anything. So, they let him sit with Dean until the drugs finally took over and he fell asleep.

This was irony at its best, but unsurprising. Dean had always been able to talk to Seth, even when Seth wanted nothing to do with him but to fuck him, to dominate him, to use him. Now, he wasn't sure how he felt about the Lunatic Fringe, looking so small and broken thanks to Seth's own brand of torture. In a strange twist of fate, he felt sorry for Dean now, though not for what he did. It felt strange to look at Dean with different eyes, strange to feel an affection for him he'd never thought about.

“You mean Roman?” Seth asked, that same weird accent sounding stranger and stranger every time he used it. It was just as strange as the pang of jealousy that creeped into his voice when he said that name.

But Dean didn't respond right away, instead staring at the ceiling like he was searching for something he couldn't quite find. He was about to brush it off as just another random set of thoughts in Dean's hazy head when he surprised Seth. “No, not Roman.”

Now Seth really was interested, leaning forward so he could see Dean's face better in the limited lighting of the room. His heart was pounding in his chest and he didn't know why the thought of Dean loving someone else bothered him. He was scared he already knew the answer, but pressed Dean anyway. “Who then?”

By now, Dean's eyes were beginning to close as his night time medication began to take hold. He snuffled a small chuckle and turned his head toward the window where Seth couldn't see his expression any more. “...Seth.”

It felt like his heart hammering in his chest stopped for one long, excruciating, minute. “You, uh, you loved him?”

There were unshed tears in Dean's eyes as he nodded and Seth felt another pang of guilt rocket into his chest like a freight train. “Maybe. I thought I couldn't live without him. Then he...then he _changed_ and so did everything else.”

“What about Roman?” He dared to ask.

Deans tears fell from his eyes and trailed down his cheeks to rest in the beard that had been growing unchecked for the last few days. He could see that he was torn up about his current lover, either unsure of his own feeling or guilty for feeling the way he did about the situation. But it was obvious, even to Seth, something between them had shifted. “Roman never was Seth. Seth was different, worthy of a fucked up man like me. Roman deserves better.”

Seth snorted a laugh. “Yeah, Roman deserves a lot of things.” He mumbled under his breath. Then, “Don't worry, people always get what's coming to them.”

Seth knew at that moment that this obsession to possess Dean, to always have him, was because he had always felt _something_ for the Lunatic. This was cemented when Dean's restrained hand covered his and squeezed briefly as if thanking him. Then he slipped into that dreamless sleep as whatever medication they put him on took hold. 

He stared at their hands for a long moment, unsure how to react. The warm pressure of Dean's on top of his was oddly satisfying in a way Seth never thought it could be. Dean was always something to be used, to be hurt and tortured only to be tossed aside like yesterday's trash. But now he felt like he couldn't let go of this man, the one that he would have had no problem causing massive amounts of physical pain to not that long ago. Now? Now he couldn't imagine hurting someone so small and damaged. Just seeing his eyes well up with tears set a heaviness in his chest he didn't quite understand. 

Did he _love_ Dean Ambrose? 

No.

He shook that thought from his head and pulled his arm away. Dean was nothing to him. He was nothing but a warm hole and a means to an end...right? 

Right!?

But Dean had said he loved Seth at one point - which wasn't the smartest move on the Lunatics part. He wondered how Dean would react if he knew he wasn't talking Tyler, but to Seth himself. Would he still admit the things he did? 

Seth found himself angry now. How was he supposed to handle this information? How was he supposed to finish what he started? He needed to keep his eye on the prize, the total destruction of Roman Reigns. 

\---

“I swear to you, he must be at the mental hospital!”

Roman knew he was screaming into his phone, pacing the floor of his kitchen and completely ignoring the broken glass as he stepped over it. 

_“Roman, you need to calm down.”_ The detective said hastily. _“We're sending men over now. If he's there, we'll catch him.”_

“I'm coming to the fucking hospital. I'm tired of playing this goddamn game with him! The only one who ends up hurt is Dean and I can't take it anymore!”

_“You need to trust us, Reigns.”_

“Why? You've been useless so far!”

There was a long pause and Roman knew he'd probably hurt the poor man's feelings, but how could he sit back and let them fuck this up again? He couldn't! He wouldn't! He needed Dean safe, needed Seth bent over in some prison cell somewhere playing bitch to some murderer who'd put him in his place, needed retribution! 

Dean needed peace.

Even if that peace didn't include Roman.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE SHOWDOWN IS UPON US!


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of shit going down in this chapter. I'm looking at maybe two more before I close this piece down. 
> 
> Remember those tags because this is going to be a ride for the shield boys.

Seth knew he should probably leave. By now, Roman would have called the cops to tell them he was here, and he shouldn't risk getting caught. But somehow, he found it difficult to leave Dean like this. For some ungodly reason, he wanted to crawl into the bed with him and just hold him. 

What was _wrong_ with him!? He shouldn't want that! He never wanted that! Yet, here he was looking at the prone form of the man he had terrorized for months like a lovesick puppy. 

“Snap out of it, Seth!” He commanded himself with a slap to his face to bring him back to earth. “Goddammit!”

What was thug hold Dean had over him? Why was he so goddamn ready to cuddle and kiss when he'd much rather fuck and fight? What was he supposed to do now? 

He'd kissed Dean before, when he was knocked out and in his trunk, and he found himself disappointed then. Would it be different if he tried it again? He knew there were cameras in this room, and if he tried anything with Dean he'd be stopped immediately. So, he could do one of two things. He could walk out now or he could barricade the door and hope for the best. 

He was already throwing a towel over the camera before he even gave it a second thought. He'd have about a minute before security would be down here, so he pushed the chair he had brought with him under the door handle to keep anyone from coming in. It would probably hold if he wedged it against the wall. 

Right on schedule, the door handle began moving as security tried to get in. When they couldn't, there was a knock at the door. “Tyler? Is everything ok in there?”

They weren't panicking yet, which made him smirk. Well, if he was going to do this, he might as well go out in a blaze of glory. “Get me Roman Reigns or Ambrose is dead.”

\---

Roman pulled up to the hospital to find half a dozen cop cars with lights flashing, a SWAT truck, and the detective running at speed toward his car. He barely let him climb out of the driver's seat before he was speaking. “Roman! Look, there's a situation here that you aren't going to like.”

“I already don't like it, detective.” Roman said, following the detective toward the SWAT van where a mobile command center had been set up. “What the fuck is going on!?”

“Usually we'd expect the patients to be the ones barricading themselves in their room and threatening someone. Looks like you were right about Seth Rollins.” He said and Roman growled his response before the detective continued. “He's barricaded himself in Dean's room and he-”

“He _what_!?”

The detective took a calming breath and looked Roman square in the eye. “He's asking for you, dipshit!”

Apparently Roman found the detectives breaking point. “What do I need to do?” He asked, far more calmly. 

“We don't know if he's armed, but he's threatening to kill Dean if he doesn't talk to you.” Answered the detective and shoved a heavy vest into Roman's hand, one that reminded him of his shield gear. “Put that on and you're going to go try and talk him out of that room!”

“He won't listen to me.” Roman said, already putting his arms through the piece of equipment. “He only wants to gloat.”

“I don't care.” Was the detective's response. “Try.”

\---

Seth could hear them crowding around the door to Dean's room. Hell, he could see them out the only window. There was no turning back now, that's for sure, so he sat on the bed next to Dean and gently called his name. When he didn't rouse, he slapped him...hard. Even then it only elicited a sleepy groan out of him. Those drugs must be pretty damn strong. He tried again. “Wake the fuck up Dean!” 

This time, Dean's unfocused eyes slid open long enough to focus on Seth. “T-Tyler?”

Seth grinned and forwent the accent. “What if I told you that wasn't my real name?”

Dean didn't respond, his heavy eyelids already sliding closed. It took Seth taking him by the chin and shaking his head side to side to get him to open them again. “Dean, do you recognize me?”

“...Tyler...y-you're Tyler…” Was the groggy answer. 

Seth shook his head. “No, I'm not.”

“W-who…a-are...?” Again his eyes were closing, struggling to stay awake even though Seth could see the concern beginning to sweep slowly across his face. 

Again, Seth had to shake him awake. “Pay attention, Dean! Look at me! Who am I?”

Unfocused blue eyes opened again and Dean looked at Seth. It was slow, maybe from the drugs or maybe from the surprise, but recognition began setting in. When Seth grinned, Dean groaned in recognition, panic, fear, something else Seth couldn't place. “...Seth.”

“Good boy.” He said and patted Dean lightly on the cheek. 

Dean was groggy, barely able to keep his eyes open, and trying to pull away from Seth. He was still restrained, so Seth knew he wasn't getting far even if he had his full mental capacity right now. “D-don't touch me…”

Rather than move away, Seth shifted his body so he was lying next to Dean in the small hospital bed. He threw his arm over his chest and held him close, satisfied and disgusted with himself that he liked this. It wasn't like Dean could fight back in this state. No matter how hard he tried to stay awake, that medication kept pulling him back under. “Deano, I've realized something over these last few months.”

The only response he got was a pained groan and a weak tug at the arm restraint. 

“I've realized that I did what I did to you because there's this weird...connection between us. I know you feel it too, you told me you thought you loved me a few hours ago.”

“...n-no...R-Roman…”

“Roman will be here soon.” He said and lightly pushed the wayward pieces of hair off Dean's forehead. He propped himself up so he could look down at Dean, taking in his entire face for what felt like the first time. “I want to try something…”

Seth leaned in, even as Dean tried to move his face away, and kissed him. There was little resistance when their lips touched, but that spark he was looking for was there. Dean had even stopped trying to pull away, probably because of the drugs, but Seth could feel him kissing back. 

Seth ended the kiss and groaned. “I knew it. I love you, you son of a bitch!”

“No...I d-don't...n-no…”

“Oh hush, you felt that too and you know it.” 

“Ro-Roman…”

Seth rolled his eyes and slipped off the bed. “Yeah, yeah, yeah. Roman Reigns…blah, blah, blah.”

As if on cue, there was a hefty knock on Deans door. “Seth?”

Seth grinned and looked back down at Dean who had already faded back into unconsciousness.

“Seth, answer me goddammit!”

Seth sauntered over to the door and pressed his ear against it. He could hear others with him, but he didn't care. Roman was here. “Glad you could make it, Reigns.”

“They want me to ask you what you want, but I already know what you want.” Roman growled through the door. 

“Is that right?” Seth laughed. “And what's that?”

“Me.”

Now Seth laughed loudly and obnoxiously. “Don't flatter yourself, Roman.” Then he turned to Dean. “Hey, Deano, Roman is here!” There was no answer. “He's all tuckered out, Roman.”

“What did you do to him?!” Roman screamed and there was a loud bang when he must have kicked at the door. 

“Wouldn't you like to know.” He snickered. Another several loud bangs rang out and sent couldn't help but laugh. “I didn't do anything to him...yet.”

“What do you want, Seth?”

Seth's smile fell. “I want Dean. I want him right now, and I want you to give me permission!”

“You want me to give you permission to...no, no fucking way!”

“You don't and there's no reason for me to keep him alive.” Seth said, simple as anything. 

“I do and you might as well kill him anyway, because you've put him through enough!” Roman snapped. 

“This isn't about _him_ , Roman.” Said Seth, taking a few steps back from the door. And it wasn't, sort of. Sure, Seth wanted Dean, and he could just take what he wanted from him. It wasn't like Dean would put up a fight. But, Roman giving permission was like the icing on the cake, the cherry on top. Imagine the guilt. He tried to wake Dean up, he wanted him to hear this. When his eyes opened and he knew he was listening, Seth screamed at the door. “How badly do you want him alive? Give me permission and I'll turn myself in.”

“No!”

“Fine!” Seth screamed. “Then you can just listen while I take him anyway! I was going to be gentle, but now I'm going to tear him apart!”

Dean was trying to struggle away, trying so hard to get away from Seth in his half conscious state that it was almost laughable. But Seth waited for what he knew was coming. He didn't have to wait long.

“Seth! Stop!”

“Last chance, Roman!”

He could almost hear Roman fighting with himself. When he answered, Seth finally felt that accomplishment that he so longed for. “Yes.”

“I'm sorry, I didn't catch that.”

“For Christs sake, YES!”

Seth grinned, finally satisfied he had broken Roman just as badly as he had broken Dean. He looked down at the heart broken man in the bed. “You hear that? He just gave me permission to fuck you.” 

But he had no intention of making good on that. He'd done what he set out to do. Roman reigns and Dean Ambrose would now have to live with that knowledge. He moved the chair away and unlocked the door. Cops immediately flooded the room and tackled Seth to the floor before cuffing him. He put up no resistance, but laughed the entire time they read him his rights. Roman was at Dean's side, running his hands through his hair and whispering apologies to him, even as Dean tried to turn away from him. 

Seth had just enough time to yell back at his former brother, friend, teammate before they dragged him from Dean's room. “Good luck living with that guilt, Roman!” 

Seth had won.


	21. Chapter 21

“Rollins! You have a visitor.” 

Seth turned in his cell, and smirked. Finally. He put up no fight when they led him from his cell to the visitors area and sat him down at the small space where inmates could speak to their guests in quasi-privacy. It was what one would think of when they saw inmates speaking with civilians in movies, a piece of reinforced glass separating a small seating area with a phone to speak to the other person. That didn't even faze him though, because staring at him was Roman Reigns. 

“Took you long enough.” He said to his former friend after he picked up the phone. “I was sentenced to this hell hole 6 months ago.”

“Fifty years, even without parole, is too good for you” Roman replied. “I'm surprised you didn't try for an insanity plea. Orange isn't really your color.”

He chuckled softly to himself. Right to the point. “Yeah, well, I'd rather be here than that mental hospital like Deano.” Roman snarled and Seth sneered. “How's he doing by the way?”

“I wouldn't know.” Roman replied through gritted teeth, obviously trying desperately to control his anger, which only made Seth's smile grow. “You made damn sure he'd never trust me again. He refuses to see me.”

That's when Seth cackled, loudly, so Roman knew he was pleased as punch he'd finally won. “He'll be in there the rest of his life, won't he?”

“Why would it matter to you? You're the one who put him there.”

“I know! Ain't it grand?”

Roman shook his head in absolute disgust at the man he once called brother. “I hope you get everything you deserve in here.”

“Why'd you come visit, Roman?” Seth asked after a moment of tense silence. 

“I wanted to see if there was any remorse in your eyes.” Roman answered. “But you just don't feel anything for what you put us through, do you? You just don't care that you physically and mentally destroyed a man who had been your best friend. For what? Revenge? On me?”

“And it worked.”

Again Roman was shaking his head, this time there was something there akin to sympathy. “You sick, twisted little man. Was it worth it?”

“You know, in those last few minutes with Deano, I thought I might even love the fucker.” Seth answered. “But it wasn't love, it was the idea that he loved me instead of you that I liked. He told me so, you know. Being here, knowing what I did to him, what I did to you...i'd do it again. It was never about Dean. This was always about me and you.”

“That's what I thought.” Roman said with a dismissive nod. “Good luck in prison Seth. I'd say don't fight it when they bend you over, but I really hope they tear your ass apart.”

With that, Roman hung up the phone and stood to leave. Seth stood and banged on the glass. This was probably the last time he'd see Reigns and he didn't want him to get the last word. “Roman! I hope you live the rest of your life knowing I won! I won, Roman!”

“Not from where I'm standing, Seth.” Roman said. But Seth couldn't do much else as the guards pounced on him. Roman was smiling in satisfaction as they damn near dragged him from the visitors area. 

\---

Roman sat in his car for a long time, not really sure why he felt the need to speak to Seth, but well aware that he felt satisfied he'd get what he deserved in prison. Yet, it felt hollow because Dean wasn't there. He might never be again. 

He'd tried so many times to see Dean, and each time being refused. That trust was gone. It was on thin ice before he was even committed. All he could hope for now was for him to find some sort of peace through all this tragedy. Dean deserved that at least. 

Now Roman had to move on. He'd said what he needed to say to Seth, heard what he needed to hear. Now he had nothing but the memories and the guilt, Seth was right on that one. 

Maybe he'd just disappear. He'd thought so many times about just picking up and going that it was laughable that he was still in the home he lived in with Dean. He just couldn't bring himself to leave. 

With a sigh, he started the engine of his car. He was about to shift into gear when his cell phone rang, startling him enough to drop it to the floor under his seat. Trying to reach for it before the call disconnected, his fingers brushed against something unusual next to the phone. Pulling them both free, he held the small piece of plastic between his fingers and smiled sadly - His door handle, the one Dean had broken. 

Pocketing the piece of plastic, intending to cherish it because of the memory it held, he answered his phone. “Hello?”

_“Good morning Mr. Reigns.”_ a cheerful young woman said through the phone. _“I'm calling on behalf of a Dean Ambrose here at the mental health facility. He's requested to speak to you. Would you allow that?”_

It felt silly that she even needed to ask that question and he agreed without even thinking about it. 

_“Great!”_ she said. _“Hold on one sec.”_

Roman's heart was thumping in his chest. This would be the first time he'd talked to Dean since that night and he didn't know what exactly to expect. He knew patients were allowed to make periodic, supervised phone calls, but after everything he never expected one from Dean. Yet, after a few seconds of a phone shuffling, his voice rang through. It was low, a bit tired sounding, but full of emotion that he'd never heard from the man. _“Roman?”_

He had to move the phone away from his ear for a second to hide the sob as it hit him quicker than he could stop it. “Yeah, it's me.” He answered after a second to compose himself. “How are you, Dean.”

_“Doc says I'm getting better every day.”_ he answered and Roman could hear the proud smile in his voice.

“I'm so glad to hear that!” Roman replied happily. There was a long silence on the other end of the line where the only noises he could hear was Dean sniffing. He was crying and Roman wanted nothing more than to reach through the phone and hold him tight. “Are you okay?”

_“Y-yeah, I'm good.”_ was the small answer. _“I miss you, Roman.”_

That was it, Roman was crying freely now. “Oh god, Dean, I miss you so much!”

Another long pause, then, _“Come see me? Please?”_

He didn't have to even think twice. “I'll come see you whenever you want me to.”

_“Tomorrow?”_

“Tomorrow.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Only one to go!!!


	22. Chapter 22

Roman barely slept that night, his mind to preoccupied with what was going to happen when he met Dean that following morning. He hadn't seen Dean since that fateful day so many months ago, no matter how many times he tried. It wasn't that Roman blamed Dean. In fact, he wasn't sure he'd be all that excited to see the person who gave their attempted rapist permission to fuck their own love under duress. He didn't want anything from Dean, he just wanted him to have some peace at this point, even if that meant being pushed away.

But Dean had reached out. All Roman's prayers had finally been answered. Dean wanted to see him! 

He could barely contain the nerves as he pulled his car into the hospitals garage, or when he walked through the glass doors. He'd played this game so many times before that he almost expected to be stopped when he stepped up to the reception desk. 

“Good Morning, Roman!” The nurse said. She was far more chipper than he remembered her being. “Are you ready to see Dean?”

“Really?” He responded skeptically. “It's never been this easy.”

“Well we knew you were coming.” She answered with a sweet smile and handed him a visitors pass that he was to clip onto his shirt. “Just wait here a few minutes and I'll get an orderly to take you to Dean.”

He nodded his thanks and did just that, drumming his fingers anxiously on the wood top desk as he waited. It wasn't long before he was greeted warmly by a man in a white orderlies uniform. He was large, easily taller than Roman and at least a hundred pounds heavier. “Mr. Reigns?”

“Yes?”

He smiled and held out his hand. “Nice to meet you! I used to be a big fan of yours when you were wrestling.”

“Thanks man.” Roman said with a small smile. 

“I'll take you to Dean.” He said and motioned for Roman to follow. 

Roman did follow, and was aware that the orderly was speaking to him about some match he'd watched that he thought Roman would have been so good in. He nodded and offered the man a thankful smile as they rode the elevator to the fourth floor. 

“He's not on the sixth floor anymore?” Roman asked as the doors slid open. 

“Nope.” The orderly answered and gestured for Roman to exit the elevator first. “He's been doing so well, the doctor took him off watch. He's been here for about a month now. It's much better for him, I think.” 

Roman was led to a small visiting area that had several tables and chairs, a bookshelf full of books, musical instruments, and sofas. It was a warm tan color that definitely gave off a feeling of warmth, a far cry from the single metal chair bolted to the floor in the clinical white room of the sixth floor. The orderly motioned for Roman to sit and instructed him Dean would be in shortly, he was finished up a session with his doctor. 

He chose a comfortable looking chair situated off to the side. It was private and inviting and would give them privacy if they needed it to talk. Then he waited. 

And waited.

And waited.

It could have been ten minutes, it could have been ten hours, but the time seemed to slip slowly past him as every second seemed to drag. He was so nervous, so anxious, it made his fiddle with the hem of his shirt as he shook his left leg up and down. 

Then, the door opened and there he was. He looked so much skinnier than Roman remembered, the grey sweat pants and baggy white tee shirt hanging off him. He was walking under his own power, the orderly merely standing next to him to direct him where he needed to go. He looked...healthy. 

Roman stood and watched him for a few moments, just admiring the man who he loved and had to let go. But that didn't matter as soon as Dean caught his eye. He stopped dead in his tracks and just watched Roman shift uncomfortably. His face was unreadable, and his body language clearly read that he was fighting with himself for his next move. 

Roman took a step toward him and Dean seemed to stiffen, so he stopped. “Hi.” Was all he said, unsure of how Dean would react if he said much more. 

“Hi.” Dean said back quietly. 

“You're looking good, Dean.”

“Thanks.”

“H-how are you?”

Dean didn't answer. Rather he stood staring at Roman for a long moment before his resolve broke and his lip started quivering ever so slightly. The he launched himself into Roman's arms and held him so tight the Samoan thought he might just smother him. But it didn't matter. He could die a thousand deaths and be happy that this moment happened.

“I fucking missed you, Roman!” Dean sobbed into his ear, breaking Roman in two as he pulled the younger man as close had he could physically get without absorbing him into his skin. 

“I'm so sorry, Dean.” He sniffed, trying desperately to hold it together and failing miserably. “I'm so goddamn sorry!”

“I know.” Said Dean. “Fuck, Roman, I'm sorry too!”

Roman pulled Dean back so he could look at his tear streaked face, right in those glassy wet eyes. “No! You have nothing to be sorry for! I...I shouldn't have...I just wanted to…”

Dean didn't let him finish his thought. He pressed their lips together in a kiss that spoke volumes on the pain, the loss, the love that they both shared. It was a kiss so full of every emotion they both had felt for each other and the searing love they shared. When they parted, that intense affection was still present in the way they held each other, the light touches and looks. 

“I love you.” Roman said, and meant it. “I always will.”

Dean smiled, “I love you so fucking much it hurts.”

“Me too.”

They stayed cuddled close for the next several hours, just talking, kissing, holding each other. Roman listened as Dean told him everything that had been going on in the hospital, how he was getting better, how he hoped to go home, how he hoped that home still included Roman. 

“I will go wherever you are, Dean.” Roman said. “Wherever you want me.”

“I want you with me.” Dean had replied with an almost shy look in his eyes. “Always.”

They hadn't seen that same orderly approach, but Dean looked up as soon as his large presence was right there. “I'm so sorry, but visiting hours are almost over. I have to get Dean ready for his nighttime routine.” 

With one more kiss, they pulled themselves away from each other and said their goodbyes. 

“You'll come back, right?” Dean asked, nervous, as if Roman might say no. 

Roman gave him one last hug. “You couldn't keep me away.” 

“Good.” 

When everything was said and done, he made it back to his car and just sat in the driver's seat, smiling like an idiot. His phone buzzed in his pocket and he pulled it free to read the text message on the screen and his smile fell. 

_It's done._

Roman typed back quickly. **Photo?**

The next message contained a picture attachment that he opened quickly, anxious to see what his money had bought him. Paying off the guards of the prison was surprisingly easy. There, bent over a bunk with some tattooed man's dick shoved into his ass was Seth. He was obviously in pain, his face twisted into a look of absolute torture. Blood was running down the back of his legs, there were bruises and cuts everywhere he could see, and his hands were twisted behind his back so hard it looked like his shoulder might be out of joint. 

A new type of smile pulled at his mouth then, one satisfied and vindicated. Seth finally got what he deserved and Roman couldn't be happier. 

**Thank you.**

He shifted his car into gear and thought about the future. For once, it actually looked bright.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone who stuck with this sick and twisted little slice of hell I've written. It's been tough to get into the mindset some days, but knowing there are people who really look forward to this made it worth it. Evil!seth will definitely be back in other stories, but this is now complete. He definitely got his comuppance.


End file.
